#i probably should have put one of those ahead of five

[limonmelon]

armandaniel reclist

Because I really have to start putting these somewhere and because I need everyone to read these and give them the love they deserve:

outcast of all this night by gaypiratedivorce - "After a month in Dubai, Daniel Molloy is back home and miraculously alive, eager to get to work on his first draft. The vampire Armand has other plans." first in an insanely good (and complete!) series.

two truths and a liar by andrealyn - "Facing down the press junket for his book, Daniel Molloy is prepared to hype up his hit novel. He's less prepared to have Armand crash the tour to play bodyguard and doting assistant and he's definitely not ready to have his secrets spilled on a world stage because Armand wants to play games. The longer he sticks around to torment Daniel as he chases him across the country, the longer he stays. So, who's really winning this game?"

to the edge of the earth by andrealyn (you can tell I love her Daniel voice) - "There's nowhere that Armand can run where Daniel won't find him. Using the Talamasca's information, his own dogged determination, and eternity sprawling ahead of them, Daniel's going to find his maker and figure out why Armand keeps running. When he catches him (and he will), he's going to prove that it's going to be the two of them, forever, and that he's going to love Armand the way no one has before."

and then what? by andrealyn - "The droning hum of Louis' boredom is going to drive Armand mad. Instead of accepting it, Armand seeks out the kaleidoscope chaos that is Daniel Molloy's mind to learn why he's so special, so fascinating, so interesting. Every city he finds him in, he learns more before he makes Daniel forget. Every city, Armand grows a little more addicted. And every city, Armand does something he's not supposed to do -- falls a little more in love and eager to give Daniel the memories of who they are together."

his thoughts were red thoughts by spqr - "Daniel’s barely thirty; he can’t fathom one century, let alone five. It’s probably a wonder Armand doesn’t spend his time skulking in a cave somewhere, muttering to himself, covered in the blood and muck of his innocent human victims."

care and keeping by katplanet - "Louis shakes his head. “And now he's got you stepping on him.” Daniel picks his drink up and necks the last half of it. “I have not,” he says, “stepped on him, as of yet.” “But you want to.” “I think so?” Daniel puts the empty glass back on the table and scoots it out of their immediate limb radius. “I think I could want to. I want to want to.” “There you go,” Louis says, “tell him that. That'll set the mood.”" With some really great Louis/Daniel friends who love each other and also fuck too.

Endearments by Nothing_But_Paisley - "Daniel never compared him to a Botticelli angel or a Bernini cherub, never called him a demon or an imp. Such images scarcely existed within that wonderfully secular modern brain of his. Daniel was entirely a creature of the flesh."

open up your skull, i'll be there by typefortydeductions - "He shakes his wrist free and brings it to his mouth, licking up the trail of blood, his eyes never leaving Armand’s. He turns, and walks away, and spends a restless night in his own bed with his dick half-hard and the memory of Armand’s blood and Armand’s hands and Armand’s final whispered words before he upped and left Daniel sprawled newborn on the floor." this series floored me it's so good please read it.

mystic seaport is that way by exastris_scientia - "Daniel should really get more sleep and stop getting himself into these situations..." this series has it's boot on my throat. written pre-Season 2.

bend your dream with the road | VOTE TO END OTW RACISM by meronicavars - "Daniel is asleep dreaming of his own unreliable recollection of Louis at Polynesian Mary's all those years ago and Armand wants to dive into his dream and wrench Louis out, shake him until he realizes that Daniel is his, Daniel has always been his. Isn’t this something Louis should know? That Daniel was his gift to Armand. Why must you torture me with his presence? He wants to ask. Why would you bring him here if not to punish me?" also part of great series and written pre-Season 2.

the man who wasn't there by obstra - ""I just couldn't bear to lose you and Louis in one day.” Armand is looking away from Daniel now and picking more ferociously at the edge of his sleeve, like he's avoiding something big. He's almost afraid to ask, somehow he can tell this is going somewhere significant “Why would losing me be the same as losing Louis Armand? Just some kid you met decades ago in San Francisco, tortured a little bit then threw aside? Explain to me why. Does this have anything to do with the fact that my memory of the 70s has more holes in it than swiss cheese? I thought it was just drugs but I also thought San Francisco was just drugs and look how that turned out.”"

a haunting just for company by valkyrisms - ""I know what a breakup looks like," Daniel says. "The better question is, why are you coming to me about it? I'm the one who broke up your little sham." "This is what humans do, don't they?" Armand asks, letting his voice drop. "Crashing on their friends' couches when there's a blip in their romances?""

Simplicity by WendigoDreaming - "Daniel's memory is a gaping hole morphing slowly into the shape of Armand." also part of an ongoing series!

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning by trinityofone - "He should have left when he had the chance. But he wanted to see how it ended. His mistake. Because the story wasn’t done with him. All at once it was grabbing him by the throat. (A version of Daniel's turning featuring visions, sex, and sexy visions.)"

forever's gonna start tonight by trinityofone (actually just read all their IWTV fic thank you) - "I’ve lost my mind, Daniel thinks, still lavishing kisses to the chest of the creature that killed him. He says the next part out loud: “I fucking hate you. And you hate me. So something is making us do this.” “I don’t hate you,” Armand pants. “You mean nothing to me. Don't stop.”"

more to come!

[xoxoemynn]

For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter

First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.

Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.

By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.

I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.

Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.

Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.

I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)

But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.

I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.

My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.

Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.

Now let's get our damned show back.

[midnight-black2]

Ahh this is my first time requesting anything but I need prompt 5 for Farleigh 🙈

Imagine him being cocky for getting a higher score than reader and reader basically putting him in his place. 🫣🫣 (also i’m absolutely obsessed with your writing!!)

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐘

pairing : farleigh start x reader

synopsis : pretty much what the req says

disclaimers : sub!farleigh, dom!reader, public sexual intercourse (idk what this is called), handjob (m!recieving), slightly mean reader, degradation, ruined orgasm, probably more lol

note : thanks for the compliment ! hope you enjoy this '

it was by five points, five fucking points, and all farleigh did was torture you about it.

typically, you scored higher than him, mostly because you just straight up put in more effort. he couldn't care less about studying, he was just a naturally good tester. for this reason, he normally knew his place. but the one time he studied and you didn't, the one goddamn time. he wouldn't let you live it out, all he would ever do was talk about it, teasing you and making fun of you.

"wow Y/N, i think you're falling off," he stated, with a sarcastic, disapproving look. he was leaning over, hovering over your shoulder to get a proper look at your score. you were flabbergasted, you actually got a 95%. farleigh had gotten an 100%. if was quite literally embarrassing. that was when it first happened, but he didn't leave it there, oh no.

"ah-ah, don't you think i should skip ahead of you?" farleigh asked, his annoying voice startling you from your thoughts.

"what?"

"well i got a higher score, those have always been our rules." the thing you hated most was that he was right. it was also stupid because he made the damn rule, and you didn't care about being ahead in the lunch line one way or another. you figured the only reason he had done it was to make victory that much sweeter when he actually did score higher than you. so you stayed silent, letting him sit ahead of you.

and another incident...

"so if anyone here needs tutoring, don't hesitate to ask. our programs are specifically designed to connect students while effectively getting them to learn," mrs. abram spoke, as she handed out tutoring flyers.

farleigh shot you a glance, before mumbling your name, and covering it up with a fake cough. you groaned, with a sigh before frustratedly stuffing the flyer in your bag. he was being insufferable, and there was only so much you could take.

the final (notable) time he teased you, you two were partnered on a history project, the exact class he had excelled on the exam in. of course, just your fucking luck.

as he sat down, he had this complacent smirk on his face that you wanted to slap right off. he set the assignment papers down on the desk, and turned over to face you.

"well, i'm glad we got partnered, yeah? you probably need my help," he said, mockingly.

"jesus christ farleigh it was five fucking points! get over yourself!" there it was, you snapped. it was only a matter of time, though it just so happened to be in the middle of class. farleigh's smirk only grew, as if this was what he had wanted the entire time. the teacher had scolded you for cursing, and almost dismissed you from class. fortunately, you managed to stay, and the whole time you felt the urgent need to snap farleigh in half.

finally, after what felt like days, the class ended. however, instead of heading to the next class, you followed farleigh down the hall, before pushing him inside of some random storage closet. he was about to ask you what you were doing, he was about to leave...until you said something.

"what the fuck, farleigh," you uttered, coldly. he faltered, something in the way you sounded made him feel some sort of way. it was dark, and farleigh couldn't make out much, but if he had to guess, your expression would have been that of a deadpan, glaring into his soul.

"i don't get why you're so mad. i scored higher, and that's final."

"i'm mad because you don't know your fucking place." you spat back, inching closer to him.

"yeah? and what's my place, hm?" he questioned. his voice had an edge to it, but more than that he was genuinely curious.

"beneath me," you answered, no hesitation whatsoever. did you say it because that's what you actually thought? no. were you angry? yes. did you think farleigh would get off to it? also yes--and, he did. he did so much that he was developing a hard-on.

"you sure about that?" he asked, voice wavering.

"your dick is," you replied, gripping his cock in his pants. his knees buckled, and he let out the smallest whimper, that was nearly inaudible. "you're so pathetic, farleigh."

"yeah? well you're still gonna give me a handjob. so pathetic or not at least-" he cut himself off with a moan as you squeezed roughly once again.

"just shut the fuck up for once," you instructed, as you unzipped his fly. you, not-so-gently, took his cock from his boxers. his tip was an angry flushed red, and leaking pre. you chuckled at the sight, and he turned to face away, embarrassed.

you thumbed at his tip, and he whined softly. your fingers formed a circle shape, before sliding up and down at mid-pace. if you didn't want to miss too much of your next class, you'd have to make this quick.

"f-fuck, Y/N," he moaned, bucking his hips up slightly. you placed a hand on his hips to keep them pinned. you sped up your pace just a bit.

"is this what you've been wanting, farleigh? i really don't know how you got an 100% because all you seem to do is think with this stupid cock of yours," you said, as it was your turn to smirk this time. his head tipped back with a strained moan.

"shit, oh my god," he cursed, feeling himself grow close to an orgasm already.

"guess i should've done this a lot sooner, hm? really would've shut you up." your hand became brutal, but god did he like it.

"please," he said, not even sure what he was begging for. it was too much for him.

"please? are you serious? you take what i give you, farleigh." he whined at that, cursing under his breath.

"fuck Y/N, i can't-i...i think im gonna cum," he stammered, as his legs felt light, like they would give out any second. and just like that, you stopped. he whined, as you shoved his cock back in his underwear, and zipped back up his pants. you had left him with a raging boner, and he felt he could cry at that. as you exited the closet, he couldn't help but fear what he had gotten himself into.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[miss-musings]

Crosshair's 10 Most Impressive Shots in "Star Wars: The Bad Batch"

We're now officially three weeks removed from the series finale, so I thought it'd be a fun time to look back at our favorite sniper and review some of his most impressive shots.

Note, I'll be ranking items from "The Bad Batch" TV show only, so there won't be any entries from "The Clone Wars" S7.

I did get a lot of input from folks here and on Twitter, and a lot of people ended up saying the same ones. I put them on here along with a few of my own.

As for how I determined the order, I judged based on a combination of: the distance of the shot, the size of the target, the speed of the target (if applicable), other external factors like light conditions and weather, and "internal" factors like Crosshair's physical and mental state.

You're free to disagree with which ones I picked and how I ordered them. It's all subjective.

Also, I don't proclaim to be an expert in marksmanship nor am I a military sniper. But, I do have a general baseline for how difficult Crosshair's shots would be IRL. I used to go shooting with my dad a lot at both indoor and outdoor ranges, and I was pretty decent at both pistol- and rifle-shooting. So, that's what I'm using to judge Crosshair's shots.

With that out of the way, let's dive in with #10:

10. Killing Lt. Nolan in 2.12 "The Outpost"

I probably wouldn't have put this one on the list for myself, but I had multiple people suggest it should make the cut.

While this shot is very important narratively, it's not very impressive from a purely technical perspective.

I mean, hitting a relatively stationary human-sized target from a few meters away... It's definitely not the most impressive shot on Crosshair's resume.

However, I did feel it was worth adding to the list for the simple fact that Crosshair is physically exhausted and mentally broken in this scene. He basically uses the last of his strength to kill Lt. Nolan, because he immediately collapses right afterward.

Also, Crosshair might be right-handed, but he's pretty good at shooting his pistol leftie. We don't really see the shot hit Nolan, but if you zoom in after his body hits the ground, you can see that Crosshair shot him straight through the heart. He wasn't leaving that bastard alive after everything he and Mayday went through.

9. Lunch tray ricochet in 1.01 "Aftermath"

Even though this isn't a shot in the traditional sense -- considering there aren't any firearms involved -- I had to put this on the list for two reasons.

One, I had multiple people suggest it; and two, because I've watched this scene dozens of times and only recently found out that Crosshair actually hits two clones with his lunch tray.

He initially throws it at the clone Tech was fighting, presumably knocking him down. But then it ricochets so hard that it basically clotheslines another clone who's just standing there, minding his own business. Dude was hit so hard, he was like floating in midair for a split second.

Also, this plays into my headcanon that Crosshair would be excellent at any sports that require excellent aim and coordination. If he was on a basketball team, he'd be a three-point specialist for sure!!

8. Plan 55 ricochet in 3.12 "Juggernaut"

This is the closest thing we get to a trickshot in S3, so I had to include it on the list.

Here, we see Crosshair's quick-thinking and perfect aim take out several troopers at once by purposely ricocheting his shot off the magnetically sealed doors.

As we know from “A New Hope,” magnetically sealed doors/surfaces are no joke. You really have to know what you're doing or someone's gonna get hurt. Thankfully, Crosshair is a freakin' pro at this!

It honestly reminds me of all those crazy pool shots where you have to plan out four or five bounces/angles ahead to get the angle you really want.

7. Downing a spaceship on Ryloth in 1.11 "Devil's Deal"

NOTE: This is the only clip I couldn't readily find on YT. So I included the clip of Crosshair killing Orn Free Taa from the same episode to maintain symmetry in this Top 10 list.

Don't let the clip fool you. The shot I'm actually talking about takes place before this, when Crosshair -- from like 300 meters away, mind you -- takes down a fast-moving ship by shooting one of the engines.

Look, I love S3 Crosshair with all my heart, but his shooting abilities were severely diminished after his time on Tantiss. When I was doing my S1 rewatch and got to this scene in 1.11, I was like "Oh yeah, I forgot Crosshair used to be able pull off crazy shit like this."

It's actually sad how many of his made shots in 1.11 are like an inverse of his missed shots in 3.11. Here, Crosshair easily shoots a tracker onto Hera & company's ship, and later shoots the engine with no problem, despite the speed and distance.

In 3.11, though, he misses CX-2's ship and fails to track Omega back to Tantiss. 😭

6. Shooting Wrecker's knife in 1.01 "Aftermath"

Now we're getting into the really impressive shit! Most of these remaining entries have Crosshair shooting small targets and/or fast-moving ones.

In this instance, it's both. Wrecker throws the knife like this is skeet-shooting or something, and Crosshair just very casually shoots it into a droid.

Have you ever seen someone who was so good at their job/hobby that they make it look effortless? Like they're not even trying? This happens to me sometimes when I watch the Olympics. I'm like, "That's not so hard. I could probably do that." And then I try it for like half a second, and I'm like, "Oh no, those people are insane."

That's how good S1-2 Crosshair is. He makes shooting a fast-moving knife look effortless.

5. His four-kill trickshot in 1.15 "Return to Kamino"

These next three are all no-brainer entries. I think the biggest question will be why I went with the order I did.

Here, we have Crosshair displaying two very important elements of marksmanship/sniping: patience and careful aim.

Crosshair evidently set up at least four mirrors (I counted the ricochets in the shot) well in advance in the exact spots he needed to take down his Imperial squad, if need be. That's some serious foresight and preparation -- to know exactly where everyone would be standing, and have all the mirrors ready to go ahead of time.

He must've set them up even before he brought Hunter into the training room, or Hunter would've seen them and probably signaled his teammates.

He's also hitting a target that seems to be somewhere between the size of a golf ball and baseball from like 10-20 meters. And with his sidearm.

I know everyone loves the hallway mirror ricochet to kill the squadron of battle droids in TCW Season 7, but it didn't qualify. But, honestly, I think this one is more impressive anyway. He hit the first 1.15 mirror from farther away than he does in TCW S7, and he's using his pistol in 1.15 rather than his rifle and scope.

Talk about accuracy!

4. Sniping the tank in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"

Oh man! I think we all love this one, right? It's just one of my favorite sequences in the entire show -- the framing, the colors, the effects of the dirt flying up behind him.

I love how Crosshair baits the droids to get the exact angle he needs, and the dude clearly has nerves of steel for staring down the barrel of a tank without flinching. I wonder how many times he's done it, considering he seemed to know exactly how to beat them. I'm guessing at least a dozen.

This is another example of "expert making their expertise look effortless," when in reality, we'd all shit ourselves if we attempted to do the same.

Honestly, sometimes I wish we could've had this version of Crosshair face off against Hemlock in 3.15 -- the dude who stared down the barrel of a tank and didn't flinch at the most literal version of "kill or be killed."

3. Stairwell trickshot in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"

While I love the tank sequence more for the aesthetics, I have to rank the 2.03 stairwell trickshot above it.

That's partly because Crosshair's still physically and mentally recovering from nearly getting choked to death. But, it's also partly because -- just like with Wrecker's knife -- Crosshair is shooting a target that someone else is throwing.

That means he has to adjust to whatever trajectory and speed they throw it at and compensate accordingly, which can understandably be very hard to do in a split-second.

And, in this situation, Crosshair can't even see the puck directly. He's looking at it through at least one or two layers of reflective mirrors. Dude's reaction time is insane!

He also manages to take down at least four or five droids with a single shot, including the tactical droid, which is several meters up the stairwell and into the next room.

I'm not sure if the clones learned any advanced mathematics during their training on Kamino. But if they did, I think Crosshair would've loved geometry and maybe trigonometry too! He would also absolutely kill in a game of pool. I wanna see him go to the SW equivalent of a pool hall, and show Omega that he can hustle people too! He just needed to find a game that would better suit his strengths. LOL

Anyway, as insane as this shot is, Crosshair has two others on his resume that are even more impressive:

2. Saving Omega & AZI in 1.16 "Kamino Lost"

This is one of three entries on this list that *no one* mentioned when I asked for suggestions, but I had to include it. That's because it is -- without a doubt -- the most bafflingly impressive shot Crosshair makes in the entire show.

I have watched this scene dozens of times, and I still have no idea how he knows where Omega and AZI are.

Initially, I thought -- as others did -- that he's using an infrared scope to see their body heat in the water. But, that doesn't appear to be the case.

The only times I can recall Crosshair activating an infrared capability is when he has his rangefinder, which is attached to his helmet. As we see in episodes like 1.01 "Aftermath" and in 3.07 "Extraction," he specifically has to put the rangefinder down in front of his eye to use the infrared option.

No, his scope is just that -- a regular scope. The infrared capability is only attached to his helmet's rangefinder, which he doesn't have in this scene.

Thus, I have no idea how Crosshair is using a regular-ass scope to find Omega and AZI in the dark ocean. The point of a scope is to see better, and I don't know what he might see beside more darkness. AZI's eyes aren't active and, even if Crosshair spots Omega's flashlight, Omega dropped it when she went after AZI, so it's not exactly on her.

I'm willing to believe that Crosshair has better eyesight than the average human in the Star Wars universe or IRL, but his eyesight must be insane if he can see them in the water, even with a scope.

But, whether it's eyesight, some other enhanced sense or just plain luck, Crosshair knows where in the vast, dark ocean they are — not just the angle but the depth too!

It's really hard to tell how far down they are, but I'd say at least 20 meters. And if he is able to see them somehow, he might have to adjust the shot for refraction in the water too.

Plus, unlike the other entries on this list, Crosshair isn't shooting a blaster bolt. He's shooting a cable, meaning he'd have to adjust his shot to accommodate its weight and trajectory once it hits the water. Additionally, with how Omega and AZI are situated, he needs to have the cable hit and latch onto AZI, without hitting Omega in the process, and get the exact angle needed to drag both of them to the surface.

Like I said: I have absolutely no idea how he made this shot. It's definitely the most impressive one he makes in the entire show based solely on external technical factors.

But of course, there is a parallel shot later in the series that's his most impressive one of all...

1. Freeing Omega in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived"

I will never shut up about this scene. It's been living in my head rent-free for three weeks already, and will continue to for several months.

This is undoubtedly the most important shot in Crosshair's life: the shot to save his kid and free his family from Hemlock once and for all.

And everything is working against him: It's dark. It's raining. Omega and Hemlock are like ~40 meters away. The target is the binders between their hands, which is like 3-5 centimeters wide, and won't exactly be stationary. Oh, he's using CX-2's stolen blaster, which doesn't even have a scope on it!!!

We the audience get a POV of what Crosshair sees from over his shoulder, and I can barely see Omega's face, let alone her hands!! I said in the previous entry that Crosshair's eyesight has to be better than the average person's because, holy hell, how can he see that?!?

And, even worse, Crosshair is physically and mentally spent in this scene. He had to return to his own personal hell -- the place where he was tortured and traumatized for months -- then got beaten in a fight and had his dominant hand chopped off.

He and Hunter are running on pure adrenaline at this point. They are absolutely hellbent on getting their kid back, even if they die or collapse in the process. They were practically hobbling out of the CX lab together, and when they crouch down on the bridge, Crosshair has to steady himself against Hunter because he doesn't have his other hand.

And, as the final cherry on top of this proverbially shitty sundae, Crosshair absolutely terrified of missing.

A few episodes ago, the guy couldn't hit stationary fruit from like ~15 meters away with a scope in daylight and in a controlled environment. He even tells Omega: "Close doesn't count. It's either a hit or a miss." Because in a high-stakes situation like this, missing your shot could mean death for you or someone else.

Crosshair already feels like he failed Omega because he missed the shot on Pabu. And now, he has to make an even tougher one with every disadvantage stacked against him and her life literally in his hand.

I don't blame the guy for doubting himself.

Thankfully, Hunter and Omega have complete faith in him, and despite everything he's been through in S3, he has faith in himself.

And so, in the shot to end all shots in "The Bad Batch," Crosshair hits his target and frees Omega.

He and Hunter then subsequently turn Hemlock into Swiss cheese before Omega gives Crosshair a much-needed hug, causing me to cry for the 100th time.

I'll admit: as much as I would've loved seeing another mirror trickshot or some other crazy ricochet in the finale (or just S3 in general), this scene is basically perfect.

It also makes for a nice little parallel to the S1 finale, where Crosshair saved Omega's life after she saved his. Here, as he says himself, he goes back to Tantiss to free her because she freed him first.

As someone said on Twitter when I asked for ideas about this list:

"(Crosshair) put his whole heart and soul in this shot, and he didn't miss. He couldn't afford to."

Like I said: this was the shot that freed the entire Bad Batch family from Hemlock forever. So, I think by default, it had to be No. 1 on this list.

*******

Anyway, thanks for reading! It'd be fun to put together another TBB list like this. I guess I'll have to pick a subject first, though, because I don't have any ideas. If you have any, send them my way!

(EDIT: For anyone who’s also on Twitter, give me a follow. @CatchingClassic )

[vulpixisananimal]

(You wake up.)

(How long were you asleep? You were asleep so long you were dreaming. You were having a nightmare, more like. You were wandering around Dormont, and no matter what you'd say, everyone else would stay to The Script. Even when you saw yourself at the favor tree, all you would do is say the same stupid lines.)

(You shudder. Never again, please, never again.)

(You look to your side, someone had placed a heaping plate of food on your nightstand. Your stomache growled, so you decided to grab a bite. A quesadilla again, naturally. It was mostly cold now. That would put you at least an hour, maybe two behind schedule. It sounded busy outside, so maybe closer to midday?)

(What WAS your schedule?)

(Wake up, be sick, bump into isabeau, breakfast, explain over breakfast, clean up, prep for the day, go out and do whatever. Ramos came around at about. . . Three hours past noon. Stars, you had to plan.)

(You start to eat as you get up; your body lodging formal and VERY vocal complaints against moving. Stars, you were so hungry, you already finished your first quesadilla and needed another. And you still needed to get dressed!)

(It took a few minutes, but you were up, fed, and ready. Looking yourself over in the small mirror in your rented room, you looked. . . Looked like normal. Looked like him. Looked like you? Maybe.)

(Who were you, Loop? Who were you now? Just the friendly star? Is that all?)

(Ha. hahahhaha.)

(Curse you, Universe.)

(You head downstairs.)

". . . Hellooooo?" (Huh. There wasn't anyone around. They must have headed out or. . . Wait.)

(That noise you heared. It sounded familiar actually. You walk over to the door to the front yard and pull it open.)

(!!!!)

(Mirabelle, Bonnie, Nille, Isabeau, and Odile were all there going over battling! It looks like Isa was pretending to be a big ol scary sadness, it was, surprisngly similar to the house! You knew the script by heart too! Next Bonnie would say-)

"IF WE DO A COMBO, AND HAVE FIVE OF THE SAME SYMBOL, WE DO A 'JACKPOT SKILL!!!"'

"Exactly, Boniface. And see? We already have a combo of two right there."

(Ah right, because you weren't there to give that third hit.)

"When we get five of the same symbol, whether Rock, Paper, or Scissors, we'll be able to use a Jackpot Skill. . ."

"Only Rock, Paper, and Scissors attacks count for the Jackpot, by the way. We should be careful with how we use those skills, but we can use any other type of skill or item without breaking the combo."

"Yeah!! A combo will beat me!! Please, do a combo!"

(Hehe, because he's being a big ol sadness and not "knocked out.")

"You heared the man. Let's add three more scissors symbols to our lineup, shall we?"

(. . . Heh. Hehehehehehehe.)

(If you were going to be stuck in Stardusts little body, you will have some fun.)

"Of course M'dame!" (You say as you run past them all straight as Isabeau, leaping at him while he's still surprised. You both tumble back into the grass. You make a scissors symbol, and poke him on the nose with it.)

"!!!?!?!??!?!??!??!!?"

(Oh he looks so confused. And maybe blushing a little? Oh silly Loop~ You look over your shoulder to the rest of your companions with a cheeky smile.)

". . .Oops~"

"'HEY!!!" (Bonnie stomped the ground angry.) "CRABFACE!!! WE HAD THE MEANIE HANDLED!!!"

"L-language." (Nille was barely holding in a laugh, probably at seeing such a big guy like Isa being boddied by a twig like you.) "Good morning to you too."

(Odile chuckled and shook her head.) "Defeated in one blow. Truly, you are leagues ahead of us oh wise one."

"I was worried we were going to die, oh how strong it was!" (Mira continues.) "Bested by someone who should still be resting up!!!"

(Wuhoh.)

"A-ah, I'm doing fine! S-see?" (You say, getting off of Isabeau and sitting on the grass.) "No issue whatsoever~"

"incredible, absolutely incredible." (Odile says, she and the rest coming over.) "You're somehow a worse liar than Siffrin."

"Wh-" (You choke on your words.)

"Do they look paler than normal?" (Nille teased.) "What do you think Bonbon?"

"They look like white paint!!!"

"H-hey guys be nice!" (Isabeau FINALLY sat up.) "Loop just woke up, after all."

"Aww thank you Isabeau~" (You stretch. Huh, Loop, it was kind of nice to be known, honestly.) "And what have you all been up to since I passed out."

"Quite a bit!" (Mirabelle said, shaking her hands excitedly) "Madame Odile had an idea about your looping! And we decided to try and making easier! A-and-"

"Alright 'Bella, how about we get inside first." (Nille says, picking up her hammer.) "Gotta say, y'all really do have the whole battling thing down much better than I do."

"Oh don't worry Nille!" (Isabeau gets up.) "We were traveling for a whole year! We had lots of practice!"

"But until you catch up try to stick back with Boniface." (Odile adds.)

"Maybe I should be telling all you that~" (You joke, standing up.) "But really, I am feeling much better."

"Good! Now, to buisness-" (Odile leads you all back inside.)

(Your allies had been busy during your nap. They had gathered all the trinkets and supplies you'd gathered. You didn't bring all the eqipment you found in the house with you, and you didn't have nearly as much tonics, but it wasn't nothing. Paper mache gauntlets, Wok, etc.)

(They went over basic battling, and brushed up on their crafts. Nille had a solid place in battle too now. She had a nack for countering hits, so she'd stay to the side untill an opritunity showed itself and she'd jump in.)

(They were. . . Thinking about you?)

"-as the theory goes, anyway." (Odile had just finished explaining her theory on sleeping and looping.) "I do hope it's true, it would make everything so much easier."

"And if it does work!" (Mira says, excited.) "In the future just come out and say which loop it is! Everyone talked it out and well, i-it'll be easier to help you!"

"That's. . ." (It was, it was a lot to take in.) "That's really thoughtful."

"I didn't want you to have to do this alone." (Isa is smiling at you.) "We didn't, so, we perpared for you!"

"It was pretty fun, actually." (Nille is leaning back.) "Change, like I was finally getting to join my little sibling on fighting the bad guy."

"Yeah!!! And this time we're doing it as a big family!!!" (Bonbon, they're giving you the biggest smile.)

(You, you don't know how to respond.)

"I know this probably wont be the last loop, so we wont remember, but, that's ok!" (Isabeau. . .) "Because, Loop, I know every other me is going to try just as hard to help you!"

"Me too!"

"Mine as well."

"Same here!"

"YEAH!!!"

(Oh stars.)

(O-oh stars, it's, it's all too much. You're starting to cry. You're crying. It's, it's like when you first met them, so kind, and, a-and, and they're treating you like, like-)

"U-UH!!" (Isabeau holds up his hands seeing you cry.) "D-did I do something wrong?!?"

(You shake your head.)

"I think it's all a bit overwhelming. Besides, we were practicaly strangers in Dormont." (Odile rightly points out.)

"Doesn't matter!!" (Bonbon runs over to your side.) "Hey, hey, look at me."

(You look up at Bonnie, they're waving their hands-)

"You've been helping 'Frin out, and you helped us out too! We're not strangers anymore!"

"Hear hear."

"Alright! Group hug time!"

(O-oh stars, oh starsohstarsoh-)

(You're crying more, they're, they're so nice, they're being so nice. They're. . .)

(They're treating you as you. As Your own person. As a part of Siffrin but, as yourself as well. You're YOU. They know you're you!)

(You're cry even more now.)

"T-th, thank you guys. . ."

(You all stay a second more there, in a big old hug. They don't know who you really are, but they know you're Loop, and Loop needs help. And, they love you, even after all this time, they still love you. . .)

(. . .)

(Eventually, it has to end, and everyone gets back to their seats and you take a few deep breaths. In, and out.)

"Got a plan today then, Loop?" (Mira asks.)

"Well, a few~"

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 7

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger and I headed to our mission destination by train.

(We’re runaway lovers that wound up at the village after having nowhere to go)

…That’s what Victor’s having us pretend to be to hide our identities.

--

Roger: Because everyone in this village welcomed us so warmly, I was able to save my beloved girlfriend from starvation.

(What’s with the sudden change in speech and refreshing smile? Who are you?)*

Though relieved that we safely made our way into the village, I was thrown off by Roger’s sudden transformation.

Roger: Kate, we will happily settle in this village.

Kate: Y-yes. Let’s be happy here, R-Roger.

Roger kissed my cheek, making my fake smile even more awkward.

However, Roger’s convincing performance was a success and the villagers welcomed us with open arms, serving us welcoming meals one after another.

Woman of the village: You must have been nervous. You’ll stay safe in this village because our Spirit God gives protection to everything.

Man of the village: Ah, indeed! Those who believe in the Spirit God will be saved as he is the one who can ward off any disease.

Spirit God: …

The villagers beamed at a man sitting in the middle of the room who hadn’t said a word since we arrived.

(...This is the Spirit God)

(He looks around 50 years old? And looks like your average human)

However, as Fairytale Keeper who’s witnessed evil up close, I now understood.

A human’s outward appearance belied evil that dwelled in their heart.

(Even so, it seemed like stories of “disease being warded off” in this village were widely accepted)

(A mere human couldn’t possibly ward off disease. There had to be some kind of trick—)

Kate: Hm?

I felt a tug on my skirt and turned to see a little girl that looked around five years old standing there with a smile.

Blonde child: Is id nummy?

(Huh…her speech…? Maybe it’s because she’s still young?)

Kate: Yeah, it’s really delicious. Thank you.

When I thanked her, the girl smiled back happily.

This village was very peaceful and full of smiles.

It felt like a utopia where all things scary were removed.

—Unfortunately, there was no such thing in this world.

(Something’s up with this village)

--

Sometime after being welcomed by everyone, Roger and I finally found ourselves alone.

Roger: This village’s so fishy it’s laughable.

Kate: Yeah, I thought so too. This village…there’s something going on.

The Spirit God’s existence, in addition to some other sense of discomfort that I couldn’t put a name to.

Roger: Let’s hear your point of view first, lil’ lady.

Kate: If what Victor said about an undercover police being killed was true, Then the villagers wouldn’t be as welcoming to newcomers. It wouldn’t have been strange for them to turn us away. But they were all so friendly. While I don’t want to question their generosity, I think…we should keep our guard up.

(Maybe there was something hiding behind all those smiles…)

Roger: Yeah, I was thinking the same. What about you, Liam?

Kate: Huh, Liam?

(That’s right, Liam went ahead of us to gather intelligence…)

I looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.

Kate: Liam, are you hurt or anything? Hungry?  

When I called out to the room, only my voice echoed.

Liam’s voice: Hehe, I’m not hungry or hurt. Also, I’m on the other side.

Kate: Ah, sorry. Huh, how did you know where he was, Roger?

Roger: My ears picked up his heartbeat and presence. So disappearing on me’s useless.

Liam: My power and Roger’s aren’t compatible at all. Let’s move somewhere else.

With Liam concealing the sound of his footsteps, I was completely at a loss.

I followed Roger out to a place a little ways away from the villager’s homes.

The moment we stopped, Liam appeared out of nowhere like magic.

(The power to disappear’s amazing)

Liam: I’ll tell you guys everything I’ve learned about the village in the past few days. In short, this village…or rather, the Spirit God, is bad.

Kate: I thought so. How is he warding off diseases?

The most important thing was the trick that got the villagers to believe in him.

Liam: The trick’s simple. He’s not warding them off, just giving them to non-believers.

(No way…)

Liam: The Spirit God poisons anyone that doesn’t worship him or doubts him. Unaware of this trick, the villagers are deluded into thinking they’re being protected from disease. Hey Roger, have you heard of Gracefield Royal Hospital? The man they call the Spirit God used to be a doctor there.

(Gracefield Royal Hospital…?)

Roger: The hospital’s been around for a while. There’s a lot of brilliant doctors, but a high turnover rate. Useless doctors were shunned and fired.

Kate: You’re pretty knowledgable.

Roger: They left a long time ago and opened their own private practice, but my old man and his “cherished friend” used to be doctors there.

(A cherished friend…)

There was some warmth in Roger’s voice when he said that.

Roger: With this, all that’s left is getting physical evidence…

Liam: Ah, I also found a medicine cabinet. Roger can tell which one’s poison.

Roger: As expected from our cat. Nice job, Liam.

Liam: I’m glad everything went smoothly.

At that moment, Roger’s eyebrows shot up.

Liam: …Hm, what’s wrong Roger?

Roger: …

His eyes peered into the darkness.

Roger: …I can “hear” people coming from all sides.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: Yeah, there’s quite a few people. Is that how the villagers assemble?

Kate: Are we surrounded?!

Roger: Haha, looks like it. Well, we’ll just have to settle this fast.

Apparently Roger intended to take them head-on.

Liam: Yeah, it’ll be fine. Doesn’t matter how many come at us, we won’t lose.

(Liam too!)

Kate: The entire village has roughly 200 people.

Roger: We can take 100 each.

Kate: Are you insane?!

As we continued bickering, I heard footsteps approaching— 

A candle flames floated in the darkness.

Roger: Here they come.

Man of the village: …I knew you were a threat to our village.

Woman of the village: And they have a friend too. Disgusting, how did he even get in.

Liam: I’ve been here the whole time.

(It was as if the peaceful atmosphere they had greeted us with was all a lie)

The villagers’ eyes were cold and I sensed that they were willing to do anything to eliminate any foreign entities within their sandbox.

They were like mindless puppets controlled by the “Spirit God”.

Man of the village: Spirit God, what should we do with them?

Spirit God: Seize them. I will use my abilities to punish traitors.

Roger sneered at those words.

Roger: Ability, huh? If you were a Cursed One, I’d keep you alive as another on my list of precious test subjects… Too bad you’re not. Liam, go nuts. We’ll capture him.

Liam: …Roger that**

As Liam was about to pounce, daggers gleaming in hand—

A scream erupted in the crowd.

(What just happened?!)

When I realized that the girl lying beside the screaming woman was the little blonde girl who talked to me during dinner, I ran toward her.

Kate: Out of the way!

Woman of the village: What, don’t come any closer.

I was pushed back when I desperately tried to reach the girl lying in pain.

Kate: Now is not the time for this!

Woman of the village: If you hadn’t come here, none of this would’ve happened, you disease-carrying demons!

I saw her raise her hand and braced myself for a slap on the cheek.

(...)

Roger: Enough. We had nothing to do with the girl collapsing.

At the sound of his voice, I opened my eyes and saw Roger holding the woman’s wrist.

Thank you

Sorry for acting on impulse

Please help that girl +4 +4

Kate: Roger, please help that girl.

Roger: Yeah, leave her to me.

With Roger’s intimidating aura parted the crowd, allowing us to reach the girl.

Blonde child: …Ugh…

The girl’s body was stiff. Her eyes were wide open and her limbs were twitching. 

Kate: What do we do, Roger?

Roger: Based on her symptoms, it looks like tetanus. It’s a bacterial infection from a wound that affects the nerves. It makes it difficult to open your mouth, and eventually, it causes muscle spasms and paralysis.

Worst case, those infected will have a hard time breathing and die.

Kate: No way…

Roger: Anway, look for any wounds on the girl.

Roger and I examined the girl’s body and found a scratch on her calf.

Roger: …

Child’s mother: Spirit God! Please cure my child’s illness!

Spirit God: …

The man they called the Spirit God started backing away.

Child’s mother: …What’s wrong? Why aren’t you…

Roger: Relying on this guy’s not gonna do anything. He’s not some guy with special powers. He’s just a quack pretending to ward off disease by poisoning people.

Man of the village: That’s impossible! Our Spirit God’s a child of God granted with special powers!

Roger: Then why isn’t he saving this child in pain? Why didn’t you know she had tetanus until it got to this point? A false god can’t cure disease, but proper medicine can treat tetanus.

Spirit God: He’s lying! Tetanus cannot be treated!

At the Spirit God’s desperate cry, Roger looked at him with pity.

Roger: That’s ‘cause the medical knowledge in that brain of yours is outdated. There’s a treatment for tetanus. However, practical use is a miracle and there’s still some room for improvement.

(A treatment’s been discovered…)

Kate: Really, Roger?

Roger: Yeah. Though only the privileged class has access to it and it’s not available to the common citizen at all.

Spirit God: …Hahaha! If it’s not widely available, then it’s the same as saying she can’t be saved! Ah, that’s right. No one in this world can make diseases completely disappear. And yet, you all put your faith in me…It’s your fault for being foolish enough to put your trust in me.

Girl’s mother: …

With one hand, Roger grabbed the Spirit God by the neck.

Spirit God: Urk?!

As he tightened his grip, the Spirit God’s face began to turn red.

Roger: Did you never learn to let people finish talking while you were in your mama’s womb? Sure, treatment for tetanus isn’t widely available. But if you don’t have it, then you make it.

Spirit God: You can’t possibly…

Roger: As a former doctor, I can.

-

*Here, Roger is speaking more politely and softens himself by using boku as his personal pronoun instead of his usual ore. Originally, Kate goes (Boku? [...]) but changes in JP pronouns don’t translate well in English.

**Ok this time didn’t resist using “roger” for 了解.

[rebelliousstories]

Kiss Me You Animal Masterlist

There was something different about this girl from the surface. Zylia Shelley was unlike anything anyone had ever met. Pink eyes, skin and hair devoid of color, and a peculiar appetite. She caught the attention of a certain Ghoul, and not in the way either one would like.

Cooper Howard did not want to care for anyone after losing his family. He has spent two hundred years alone, and he will spend the next two hundreds alone too. So when he gets this weird girl dumped on him, he is not a bit happy about it.

The two outcasts strike up an unusual partnership that slowly morphs into some form of caring for the other person. No, they will not say they are in love.

~

Complete

~

Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Zylia “The Freak” Shelley

Chapter One: Ten Thousand Candles

Cooper is not too sure if he is impressed or fed up with this new girl. Probably both.

Chapter Two: My Thriller Scandal

He has decided that he is equally impressed and pissed at Zylia as she proves to be a formidable opponent.

Chapter Three: Take A Bite

When it comes to his cold, undead, somehow beating heart, Cooper goes back and forth on whether or not to use it on Zylia.

Chapter Four: Home Is Your Teeth Sink

After two hundred years, Cooper thought he had seen it all. But he has no clue what fresh hell Zylia is up to.

Chapter Five: Take You In Real Slow

Finding an unlikely companion, Cooper can not help but to be amazed by the woman before him.

Chapter Six: Connect With The Sound

More tales and old wounds are brought to light around a campfire, and there is something interesting enough for Zylia to want to stick around with him.

Chapter Seven: Connect With My Body

Raiders, fiends, other ghouls, other humans; there is no shortage of people who would look to do harm to someone as rare as Zylia or as common and grotesque as Cooper. Does not mean that either one should be used to this sort of treatment.

Chapter Eight: My Tongue and Smoke

A budding partnership is born, and the two mutants realize the same thing at the same time; they are not as alone as they thought.

Chapter Nine: Something Darker On Your Mind

Cooper would argue that he does not have a soft side anymore. And even if you see him helping Zylia in a time of need, no you did not.

Chapter Ten: Teeth Are Where Your Heart Was

There is something so intimate about sitting on the same abandoned couch in the middle of the desert with a fire blazing ahead.

Chapter Eleven: Don’t Ever Let Me Go

Zylia has an epiphany. Cooper has a realization. Neither one of them get that the other person is going through the same thing.

Chapter Twelve: Tear Right Through Me

How far are you willing to go for someone that you care for?

Chapter Thirteen: Welcome You To Try

Such tender moments are not common in the Wastelands. You have to hold them tight and not let go when you do have them.

Chapter Fourteen: Kiss Me, Kiss Me

Time to put those old cowboy skills to work.

Chapter Fifteen: I Wanna See Your Teeth

While Cooper is busy finding out how to get her back, Zylia is fighting as much as she can with what little she has left.

Chapter Sixteen: Kiss Me You Animal

One final showdown. One final goodbye. One final kiss.

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

[runnning-outof-time]

Hey, I love your stories so much, Thank you for your beatiful work❤️ “Did you even miss me?” With Tommy as much angst you can write maybe ?

Hi there, anon! Thanks so much for sending this in! I hope you like what I’ve done here! I tried to do as much angst as I could. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Three Years

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of war

Word Count: 636

Summary: Tommy’s attempts to reconnect with (Y/N) don’t go as he hoped they would.

“(Y/N), wait!” Tommy called for (Y/N) as he hastily followed her out of the Marquis. She was still several steps ahead of him, the pouring rain not slowing her down one bit. “Stop fucking walking, please!”

“Why?!” she yelled back to him, slowing her pace down to see if he’d notice. Within seconds, she felt his hand on her shoulder before he spun her around to face him. “Why should I have to stop for you, huh?!” she asked, venom laced into her words as her angry eyes found his.

“I wanted to speak to you,” he answered her, keeping his voice level. He had no right to be angry.

“Speak to me? You finally want to do that?” her response was spoken in an incredulous manner. Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but she continued before he was able to. “Why the fuck did you even come to this pub? It’s one of the few that I can go to; where I know I won’t see you. But now you’re here, and you’re in my fucking face, and you’ve ruined my night!” she went on with her rant, her voice raising with each word she spoke. She didn’t care that she was screaming in the middle of the street though. This was what he deserved.

“(Y/N), listen…”

“No,” she shook her head, cutting him off again, “no, I’m not going to listen to you, Tommy. You lost your chance to speak when you didn’t come to visit me for three-fucking-years. I wrote to you, I worried about you every single day when you were in France, and then the war ended and I got nothing.” She paused a moment, taking a deep breath in hopes to stop her lungs from burning. Her angry eyes found his again, and she stared into them for a moment before asking the question that was burning in her mind: “did you even miss me?”

Every planned answer that Tommy was stacking up in his mind vanished after hearing her final five words. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and instead he stood there like a fool, his brows scrunched together and jaw slack as he let everything she just said sink in.

“You know what, I don’t even want to hear your answer,” (Y/N) broke the silence, dismissing him before he even had the chance to think of a response. She turned and began walking away from him then, leaving the lighted vicinity of the pub so that she could return to her home.

Tommy stood there and watched her walk away. He was itching to rush to her side; to escort her home so that he could ensure nothing happened to her. But he knew that she didn’t need him to do that. He also knew that him doing so would probably make things worse than they already were.

To put it simply: she was right. Three years was too long of a time for someone to be gone for. Tommy had his reasons, sure, but those put aside, he still hurt her. He hurt the woman who’d been there for him right up to the day he boarded the train for France. He hurt the woman that his mind would drift to while he was stuck in the tunnels and trenches. He hurt the woman he thought he’d have by his side for the rest of his life.

And now he had to come to terms with the fact that she was gone forever. He shouldn’t have came to this pub; shouldn’t have asked around about her and then intentionally sought her out. If only he’d known better…then he wouldn’t have been caught out in the rain. If only he didn’t let three years pass by.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[peachesofteal]

Vanilla Latte

Same pairing as Double Espresso and Farmer's Market and yeah, I guess this is becoming a fic. thing. something. It's becoming something.

Simon Riley/reader 1.8k words Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI, no smut but this fic has mature themes. There is a man staring at you in the cafe.

There is a monster in your life.

It is a shapeshifter, a horrible creature that no one else seems to be able to see. During the day, it is fairly unsuspecting and blends in with its surroundings, but at night, it sheds its skin and rears its ugly head, exposing it’s true nature when it drags itself up the stairs of your apartment complex to bang on your door, its rage filled voice calling your name over and over, forcing you into your bedroom closet, where you sit in the dark with your hands clamped over your ears. Sometimes, it hurls its entire body against your door to break it down, and you hide in your locked bathroom, knees to your chest in your tub, little pocketknife handle digging into the skin of your palm.

No one seems to know your monster exists.

No one cares that the monster followed you across an entire ocean when you tried to run away from it.

Your neighbors have turned a blind eye. Those who do see, have fallen to the bystander effect. 

The ones who were organized to protect people like you from monsters say they can’t do anything unless you have proof, or it gets worse.

You don’t bother to tell them that if it does get worse, you’ll probably just be dead.

Sometimes, you see it on the street during your walk home from work, standing with its hands in its pockets, dark eyes tracking your every step, waiting for its chance to strike. Sometimes, it follows you onto the train, a car ahead, watching you between the shoulders of the people that separate you from it, their presence the only thing preventing it from making you disappear.

You tell yourself that eventually it will get bored and move on, that it’ll go away, leave you alone for good. But days pass, and it still drags itself up your apartment stairs to torment you, still stands on the sidewalk across from your building.

Sometimes, when it’s really bad, you wonder if you should just open the door and let it kill you. Let it take what it wants, let it make you disappear forever. You think it might not be so bad, not living, if it meant you were free of the monster.

But then, the sun rises. The monster leaves and the day begins. The air is warm, and the birds chirp, and the breeze is just right, and it’s enough. It’s enough to remind you that you can feel something other than despair. It’s enough to keep you going.

And right now, that’s really all you can ask for.

“Oh good. Was starting to worry.” Your boss, Tiana, or just Tee as she constantly reminded you, breathes a sigh of relief when you come through the back door. Your apron comes off the hook easily, and then over your head before the waist ties wrap around your middle. It’s even still got some flour caked on it from yesterday. You shoot her a pointed look.

“You know, if you want to take large orders, just schedule me ahead of time, that way we’re not running around like chickens with our heads cut off.”

“It was last minute, and I couldn’t really say no. But! I am here and will help you with whatever you need.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You pull the laptop that’s sitting on the prep table towards you and scan the typed-out numbers. “Forty-five people?” you raise an eyebrow. You called me in for this? She gives you a helpless look, and you roll your eyes affectionately while she puts a mug of coffee down in front of you, heat pulsing off of it like it’s practically boiling. “Alright, let’s get to it I guess.”

Steam floats in the air from the ceramic mug that’s cradled between your fingers. You’re sitting in the back, leaned against the stainless-steel sink, sipping your fifth cup of coffee, waiting for the dishwasher to finish while Tee rings up and helps load the order that you just cranked out.

You don’t do any of that. You don’t even talk to customers unless you absolutely have to, and even then, it’s less than enticing. You leave it for Alex, who works the counter, and puts up with everyone’s bullshit with charm and grace.

You yawn, trying not to melt into the floor, wrists sore from rolling dough for the last three hours. Outside, traffic on the street hums, busses and cars and bikes all moving in the same direction down the little one-way avenue, horns honking and music occasionally blaring out someone’s window. Usually, this was your favorite time of day. After you’ve finished the afternoon rush, the prep table has been scraped and scrubbed, most of the dishes are washed, and there’s one left over croissant with your name on it. It was in these kinds of small moments, that you still felt like yourself, felt like you could enjoy things. Like you were still just a baker, just the pastry chef, just another person, out there living their life. Not a husk of a human, always looking over your shoulder, hiding from a monster.  

The back door chimes, jolting you from your spiral, and Tee hands you a folded over banknote.

“They tipped. Generously.” You frown. You don’t take tips because you’re a full wage hourly, and she knows this.

“Give it to Alex.”

“They get one too. We all do… By the way, the new scones? Orange vanilla?”

“They’re vegan.”

“I know. They’re amazing. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thanks, Tee.” You want to sound enthusiastic about the praise, but you’re too exhausted to get the inflection right. Instead, you just sound like a deflated balloon. Or Eeyore. Sympathy flickers across her face. You turn before she can watch your expression shift into annoyance. It’s not her fault. “Dishes are almost done.” You tell her, pulling yourself free of the apron and shrugging on your knit sweater. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

Every day after work, you walk the six blocks to the corner café to sit by the window with your book and a decaf latte. Vanilla, usually, or caramel if you’re feeling like it. You settle at the little table that’s almost always open because it’s rickety, balancing on three legs because the fourth one is missing a foot. You have an exchange worked out here since you bake their pastries, they give you all you can drink espresso, and you get to curl up with your book like you’re a cat every day after work. You feel safe here. You’ve never felt exposed, the café is off a side street, and as far as you knew, you’ve never been followed. You’ve never seen your monster outside here, or in this area really at all. Never seen it on Sunday mornings at the farmer’s market, or at the cramped, darkly lit bar that you sometimes stop at to grab a pint when you’re feeling up to it.

You hope that means it doesn’t know too much about your routines, but you can’t be too sure. Even so, your monster isn’t a danger to other people, just to you, never approaching you when there are others around, and that small fact brings you small slivers of relief. At least when it finally gets you, no one else will have to watch. No one else will have to suffer.

You’re reading page three hundred and two of The Name of the Wind and drinking your second decaf vanilla latte of the day, when the incident (which is what you’re calling it, in your mind) happens. The girl behind the counter is calling a name, her voice pitched with irritation, and the change in her tone immediately puts you on red alert. You scan the shop, eyes landing on a massive man with a mask and a hoodie on who’s standing by the counter, oblivious to Clarissa, who's just trying to get him to pick up his order. 

He’s oblivious, because he’s staring at you. His gaze never falters, the intensity of his eyes kicking your nervous system into high gear, and you physically clamp down on yourself, so you don’t sprint out of the coffee shop right then and there.

It’s not the monster. That is a man. This man is not your monster. 

Clarissa gives you a helpless look and gestures to the queue that’s quickly forming in front of her register. You give her a nod in return, and stride over to where the behemoth of a man stands frozen, Patrick Rothfuss still in your hand. You take a closer look at him, and swallow when you see his eyes, their amber reflection gorgeous in the afternoon sun. Something hot stirs in you, prickles across your skin and you take a sharp inhale. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the pull of attraction, felt the presence of butterflies in your stomach, that you almost mistake what you’re feeling for fear. 

Something pulls you closer to him, like you're tethered together on an invisible string. 

“Sir?” the man in the mask doesn’t respond. He just… stares at you. Okay… weird? Is this dude on drugs? “Sir.” You drop the question at the end of your statement adding a little more authority, trying to get his attention, and it seems to work, because his spine straightens, and then he nearly stumbles backwards, away from you like you’ve struck him. You blink in confusion. “I think that’s yours.” You point to the white cup that Clarissa was gesturing to, but he still ignores you. “The uh, double espresso?” Something is off here. You pull the tiny cup from the counter and hold it out to him, imagining he’ll just take it from you and be on his way but when he doesn’t move, worry starts to build in your mind. What if he can’t hear? What if he’s having a stroke? What if something is wrong? “Sir? Are you… is everything okay?” You take a tiny step closer to him.

He steps back quickly, banging into the glass side door, and it swings out behind him. A second passes, and then he’s gone, turning on his heel in the breeze, disappearing down the corner while you stand in the café, a double espresso in your outstretched hand.

[mediumgayitalian]

prev chapter

———

“Okay,” Will says, when they’re comfortably on the road. This early in the morning, Highway 17 is practically empty; nothing but sunny skies and clear air rushing through the open roof. The emptiness may also be attributed to the fact that it is a random Tuesday. “Pick a number between one and nine.”

“Uh, five.”

“Good choice, good choice.”

He opens the centre console, digging around Nico’s – well, and his, at this point – collection of CDs to find the right one. He makes a little noise of triumph when he finds it, blowing on the back and wiping it on his shirt before sliding it into the port.

“One half-assed polish isn’t gonna fix those scratches, Solace,” he teases.

“If you weren’t such an emo fuck, Playlist Five wouldn’t be so scratched.”

Nico laughs, conceding this round. Will looks inordinately pleased, nose scrunching along with his tiny smile even as Linkin Park starts blasting through the speakers, which he hates.

“Three songs ‘til Britney,” he grouches as Nico starts hollering along to Points of Authority. Nico shakes his head, still grinning – as if he didn’t make these playlists. If he is truly so miserable, he wouldn’t have put the song on at all.

(Nico knows, in the very back of his mind, that Will actually and truly cannot stand Linkin Park. To him, it’s not music at all. He has never been able to get into it, as much as he truly likes music of every genre. If Linkin Park is on this playlist, and they’re on more than one of the playlists Will has made specifically for their shared car rides, it’s because he cares about Nico more than he hates the band. Nico shoves this knowledge deep into the dustiest corners of his mind, because that’s more than he can afford to think about.)

The next couple hours pass by comfortably. There isn’t much to remark on the side of the road except the odd fruit stand, or farm advertising eggs and honey, so onward Nico drives. He keeps an eye on the odometer, but mostly trusts Will’s calculations. If he says they won’t need gas ‘til Anthony, wherever the hell that is, Nico believes him. 

“Highway changes to the 98 through here,” Will says, nodding to the tiny sign that boasts nothing except Ft. Meade CITY LIMITS, right next to the giant banner half the size of the church it's attached to that reads, REPENT OR BURN. 

Ah, Florida. Please one day change.

“Do I need to exit?”

“Nope, the road just changes to a different number.”

He eases off the gas as they approach the tiny town, watching carefully for state troopers. And, like, children, probably. So far he’s passed twelve gun ranges and one school, but whatever. He can have priorities, even if this garbage state doesn’t.

“Hm. 98 is a better number.”

“Absolutely not,” Will tells him, aghast. “17 is a prime number!”

“Ninety-eight is more fun to say. Also, prime numbers suck.”

“You take that back –”

Nico slides up his sunglasses, shaking his head fondly. Nerdiest nerd to ever nerd. He would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so endeared.

He presses back on the accelerator as they exit the town, turning up the music as Will’s rant ends. He shucks off his shoes – Feet off my goddamn dash, Solace – and curls up into his seat, burying himself in a book. Nico glances away from the road to try and read the title, but quickly gives up since the font is bright fucking purple, for some reason, and in some horrible looping shape that he knows will give him a migraine. All graphic designers should be in prison. 

“Hey, there’s apparently a gator reserve forty-five minutes ahead.” Nico squints again at the book. Barely, he can make out “roadside” and “weird”. “‘Weird American Roadside Attractions’,” Will reads aloud, noticing Nico looking. “Such as a very nice and highly rated gator reserve –”

“No.”

“Road trip, Nico. Adventure.”

“I’m super happy to adventure away from living fucking dinosaurs, Solace.”

“Aw, come on, they’re kinda cute –”

“Two thousand pounds per square inch of jaw strength! You are the one who told me that!”

“You don’t think you could take one in a fight?”

Nico stares at his best friend incredulously. He’s got a thoughtful little frown on his face, looking at the sky as he contemplates. Nico notices, vaguely, that the shade of his irises is the exact same colour. 

“No, I do not. Obviously.” He pauses. “You think you could take a fuckin’ gator?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“See, that’s crazy, because fifteen seconds ago I genuinely believed you were an intelligent person.”

“Do not lie to me and tell me you don’t have a list of animals you know you could take in a fight,” Will says, instead of rising to the bait. He waits, meeting Nico’s glare, eyebrows raised.

“An ostrich,” Nico admits, begrudgingly. “I feel like – one good punch to the throat –”

Will smiles smugly at him. “That’s what I thought.” He turns back to his book, fiddling with the corner of a page. “Also, ostriches are more closely related to dinosaurs than alligators. So. Check and mate, motherfucker.”

They pull into Anthony at around eleven, at pretty much exactly a quarter tank – just like Will predicted. He looks inordinately pleased about it, so Nico shoots off a quick prayer to the karma gods. 

He trips on his way out of the Jeep. Nico smirks.

“I’m gonna go stretch my legs,” he says, unaware of Nico’s hand in his humbling. Nico waves him off, attention turned to the gas pump.

Annoyingly, as he pulls out his card and handles the pump, he remembers Will’s scrunched nose and pursed lips as he’d explained, when they were 16, how gas station pumps were frequently more germy than their toilets, and cleaned approximately one hundred percent less. Suddenly, his hand begins to feel grimey.

Twelve bags of chips, a gas station slushie, and a pair of clean hands later, Will is still nowhere to be found. Nico frowns, craning his neck to look around the tiny parking lot as if he somehow missed Will’s neon orange shirt the first time he looked. Still not catching sight of him, he walks hesitantly back to the Jeep, tucking his snacks away and biting his lip, contemplating. Will is both very fast and very easily distracted, but he has enough sense not to go too far in a random town five hours from home. If he sticks by the car and waits, Will’ll be back soon. 

But, on the other hand, waiting is torture.

Easy decision, really.

He locks the door, hopes that no one will show up with a pair of wire cutters and a flathead screw driver, and sets off. The first thing he notices, and he adds it to his mental list of things to loudly complain about when Will is locked in the car with him, is that it is fucking sweltering. In the hours approaching the afternoon, the day has gone to pleasantly warm to so hot the air is actually thick with it, and he doesn’t have wind ripping through the open windows to cool him down. Plus, he’s wearing jeans, and for the first, and hopefully only, time in his life, he envies his friend’s cargo shorts. 

The second thing he notices is that Anthony, Florida, is empty as shit. All the love in his heart to the people who call it home, but also, move, maybe. He’s hesitant to stray too far from the gas station, in case Will comes back and finds him gone, but there are no hills or anything. He can see quite far down the road. The only thing he sees is a possum starting a fight with a poor random guy – which, actually, is kind of fun to watch. 

Perhaps he has judged Anthony too harshly. 

“Nico!” shouts a voice, startling him. He whips around and finds Will, standing in the goddamn centre of the road, the dumbass, waving like a lunatic.

“There is no possible way I was going to miss you,” Nico informs him when he’s close enough. “You are approximately the height of the Washington monument. I could not miss you if I tried.”

“I wasn’t waving to get your attention, I was waving to shoo away the eagles that mistook you for a mouse.”

Nico kicks him in the shin. Will, well used to his violence, dodges, grinning, except in the act of hopping away from Nico’s dangerously hardy boots, he somehow wraps his foot around his own ankle and goes sprawling.

Nico smirks. “Who’s the short one now.”

Faster than he can even follow, Will’s hand darts out, wrapping around his ankle, and tugs, yanking him yelping on the asphalt next to him. 

“Foul!”

“All’s fair in love and war, Neeks.”

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up, Nico screams at the alarm bells blaring in his brain, he doesn’t mean it like that and you know it oh shit he’s looking this way quick look normal look normal –

“I can do war if that’s what you want, Solace,” he manages, honestly quite proud of himself for managing speech with approximately fourteen percent of his brain still functioning. Damn.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway.” He crawls to his feet, offering Nico a hand. He takes it, dutifully fighting the urge to pull Will down again, just to be an asshole. He’s cool like that, and most definitely being normal about the scrape of Will’s callused fingers against the inside of his forearm. “I found maybe the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, and I need you to come look at it immediately.”

“Sick,” Nico says, immediately intrigued. He and Will have their differences, sure, but if there’s one thing they can agree on it’s their sense of humour. 

He follows will down the road, passing the gas station again. (His car, thankfully, remains in one piece and beautifully not-robbed.) They dark across an empty intersection, walking across a yellowed lawn as they approach a run-down, patchy, one-storey bungalow with a rusted sign that reads: The Iron Works.

“Behold,” says Will gleefully, “the Abstract Iron Centaur.”

And behold, Nico does.

Gaping, he observes the structure standing proudly under the sign. Striding proudly, rather, its front legs bent to simulate movement, its human arms poised as if ready to strike. It wears a medieval knight’s helmet, and holds a rusted axe. The entire structure is a little taller than Will, and made of, presumably, iron, rusted into a light roan red.

“Abstract Iron Centaur,” Nico repeats, after several minutes of silence.

Will still looks delighted. “It was in my book. I had no idea what to expect and also I didn’t believe it was real. Isn’t it the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“It’s…something.”

“We gotta take a picture, Neeks. I never want to forget this thing.”

Nico allows himself to be pulled, still somewhat bewildered. It’s not even the oddest thing he’s ever seen, it’s just – he has many questions, like, for example, why? How long has this creature existed? How long will it persist? Who created it? Why is it in Will’s dorky book? Does it house a soul?

“Okay, squish in, this camera is older than your elderly ass and doesn’t have a timer.”

The familiar jab breaks him out of his stupor. “Seven months older than you, fucker.”

“Geriatric.”

Without warning, Will crowds them under the Abstract Iron Centaur’s lifted arm, and then presses his widely grinning cheek right flush to Nico’s, raising his beat-up camera to the air.

Nico’s brain goes static.

“Say cheese!”

“Hnngh,” says Nico, as the camera blinds him.

Luckily for his continuously worsening blood pressure, Will pulls away the second he hears the click, shaking the ejected negative to help it develop, and Nico has a second to remind his lungs that they have a function, actually, get your shit together, I am not dying in fucking Anthony, Florida. 

“You look like a dork!” Will says, delighted. “Look!”

Blinking at the photo shoved one sixteenth of an inch from his eyeballs, Nico indeed looks. The Abstract Iron Centaur looks more foreboding on camera, somehow, but Nico barely notices it – instead, he finds his gaze drawn to the beam so wide it forces Will’s eyes shut, and the dazed, dopey look on his own face; eyes wide, mouth dropped, slightly, and posture undeniably leaning into Will’s magnetism. 

Humming to himself, Will slips his wallet out of (one of) the (many) pocket(s) of his shorts, tucking the photo inside it. Nico melts into a puddle of goo on the dead grass. His mortal soul escapes his body, descending rapidly. His atoms return to star dust. Et cetera.

“Oh, shit, we gotta go if we want to reach Georgia in good time.”

“Right,” says Nico, voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again. “Let’s go.”

He absolutely does not haul ass to his car. He walks at a normal pace, for normal reasons, thoughts in a normal place. 

“Back on the 75,” Will instructs as they peel out, sliding sunglasses on his nose. “We gotta scoot around town a bit to get to the entrance, but it won’t take long.”

“D’you know this place?” Nico asks, even though he doubts it. As far as he knows, Will was outside of Sarasota one time: in the move from Austin. He supposes his mother might have had a concert up here, or something, and unusually, let him tag along, but he doubts it.

“Nah, just memorised the map.”

Nico hides a smile. “Oh, of course.”

It’s all too easy to tease Will, but there was a reason he was valedictorian. There’s a reason for his many shining scholarship offers, his endless well of ridiculous facts pulled from nowhere. He is, genuinely, the smartest person Nico has ever met.

Even if he genuinely believes he can fight an alligator and win.

“Two hours ‘til we cross state lines,” Will says brightly, shouting slightly over the wind as they merge onto the highway. “And then on to infinity!”

“Onto infinity,” Nico agrees, matching his smile. 

Already, he’s proved Nico wrong. They’re farther now than Will has been since he was seven, and there’s nothing in his expression that suggests he wants to slow down. 

Privately, and quietly, Nico lets himself start to hope. 

———

next chapter

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

Lmao imagine something like this in book 3:

Harumi: but now that I'm alone, there's barely anything to do so I try to pass my time with writing

Lloyd: oh that's cool! What do you write?

Harumi: just some green ninja x reader one shots! They're surprisingly popular on the internet!

Lloyd: HUH?!

Lloyd beta reads the heck out of them and constantly makes "suggestions" to a) make sure they're accurate b), make himself cooler c), limit the amount of bashing of the other ninja, and d) he does like them khgfdfgd, and as Harumi values his opinion so highly she takes him up on everything. Otherwise he doesn't actually care that she's writing them since she's actually putting him in a good light, and the ~romances~ are hardly anything more than hand-holding or a kiss on the cheek. But holy smokes he cannot let the other ninja find out–

(ALSO IMAGINE SAMANTHA IS ONE OF HER READERS LMAO)

. . .

Lloyd: I like this plot point with the Green Ninja saving the reader from being crushed by a tank and all, but does the Fuchsia Ninja really need to die at the end...?

Harumi: It adds some ~spice~ to the otherwise basic plot. It helps sets me apart from those other X-Reader writers :3

Lloyd: But sometimes...a basic plot...is good!

Harumi: ...I'm keeping it e-e

. . .

Harumi: Any suggestions for this piece? I feel like some of the detail is a little lacking...

Lloyd: You should totally have the Green Ninja using more weapons in the fight scene, he really likes cannons and rocket launchers. And maybe have him say more nice, general things about the reader, I get the impression he's the type not afraid to tell people what he really thinks of them, but he could still be a little shy. ...And I think you should an explosion behind them as they sail away on the dragon mech instead of a sunset, sunsets are so over done

Harumi: Oooh, you're a visionary *edits*

. . .

Samantha: Oh heck yeah, SilentSister14 just put out a new GN x Reader fic!!! Everyone shut up I'm so reading it right now—!

Antonia: I cannot believe you just announced that.

Samantha: Hey, you would too if you read them! The author's super talented and detailed! It's like she knows the Green Ninja personally or something!!

Antonia: ...no way, send me the link!!

Harumi: *sweating, staring straight ahead trying to pretend she's an unrelated party*

. . .

Lloyd: ...also, why do you keep describing the Green Ninja with gold eyes?!

Harumi: Because that's what color they are, duh

Lloyd: *goes through five stages of grief and seven stages of panic*

. . .

Harumi: ...why are you looking at me like that?

Lloyd: I-I, uh, think you put in a typo in this one...

Harumi: Oh jeez, what?! Where?!

Lloyd: ...the line where the Green Ninja says "And I love you too, Harumi"

Harumi:

Lloyd: ...how many of these are actually about you—?

Harumi: IDONTHAVEACRUSHONTHEGREENNINJA—I mean, I was just really in the mindset while writing!!!! it's a good thing to do, Lloyd!!!!! You're not a writer; you wouldn't understand!!! What better way to understand your character than putting yourself in their shoes, obviously!!! IT MEANS NOTHING

Lloyd:

Lloyd: ......I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you did—he is a pretty heroic guy, and is probably super cool, and smooth, and strong, and awesome, and probably has an excellent taste in a dagger and knife collection—

Harumi: Oh my god, SHUTUP...!

Lloyd: *is going to have an ego the size of texas about this lmao*

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine a modern day au in which Al Haitham kept bumping into his favorite author while he was on a trip.

Imagine the strange coincidence, having your first interaction/meeting the day-dawn at the airport. He, who believe it or not was heart broken upon having his five year relationship with Kaveh, broke up just the day before their anniversary all because things aren't working out anymore. And he who happened to booked a long trip for them overseas now was waiting for the flight alone.

Imagine you on the other hand was the opposite. Although Al Haitham was pretty much well prepared for the trip, his heart was not ready for it. You on the other hand, despite a simple hand bag which contains pretty much your laptop, notebook, favorite pen and pencil, eye mask and important papers. Leaving all keys and phone behind. You're ready.

Imagine the sudden ring of phone that echoed over the silent waiting area. Waking you up from your little nap a little pissed because damn, it's probably three in the morning. Don't they know how to put their phone on a vibrate or silent mode? It goes on for a good five minutes of none stop ringing, almost making ou think it was an alarm but you knew pretty well that was a ringtone.

"Excuse me Sir. Would you mind taking the call if you don't mind? You're waking up the other people as you see?" You sweat dropped as you asked upon seeing his glare at you.

"Mind your own business." Then proceed to hold his phone up, decline the call then shut his phone down. Then ignore you.

"Wow, what a nasty attitude." You whispered to yourself.

Imagine that dawn as the boarding flight was announced, both of you stood up. That dawn, one left with a bit of regret and heavy heart, while the other left everything behind, without an inch of regret.

"Excuse me. Would you mind switching seats with me?"

"Where is your seat?"

"Just right beside yours."

"Sure."

Imagine it does not look like he remember you. Seeing how exhausted his face close up, you could tell he was still pretty handsome despite such appearance. Still remembering his nasty attitude earlier. You decided to shrug it off and continue your nap.

Imagine in the middle of the flight, you woke up with the sound of someone silently crying. Taking off your eye mask, your eyes look around for the source of the sound only for your eyes to land on your seat mate.

Imagine there he was holding a book in one hand while his other was busy brushing off the silent tear that roll down his cheeks. Honestly it was such a sight to see, a man crying because he was reading a book. At least that should have been your thought if you didn't over hear him over the phone earlier.

"Oh?" Your eyes widen as well as him upon your sudden gasp.

"It's been a while since I saw a copy of that." You chuckle, eyes fixed on the book on his hand.

Imagine the way he looks at you, slight dumbfounded beforebe blinks. Looking back and forth to his book and you. He shut it, wiping of the tear on his cheeks, he face you to your surprise.

"You know this?" Referring to the book he was holding.

"Yes? That's one of the first limited edition version of..."

Imagine as you kept going, the more you saw light in those turquoise colored iris. It almost had you chuckle how obvious he is that he was a fanatic of that book he was holding.

Imagine the whole flight you talked about the series of that book as well as the other works of the author in which you found out was his favorite causing you to chuckle over some time. But then fun times were cut off upon the arrival of the plane that both of you did not notice.

"Hey. I'm going ahead now, Mr?"

"Al Haitham." He said offering a hand.

"It's been a while since I saw someone as interested in these books. It was a good time." He admitted like an honest guy causing you to laugh.

"Well Mr. Al Haitham, have you book been signed?"

"Why all of a sudden?? But no. I was busy back in the days, why do you ask?"

"Give it to me."

Imagine the horror on his face as he watched you pull out a pen inhand while his book was on the other hand. Watching you signed the back of the book. You left a little note before handing it back to him who had one of the most interesting dumbfounded look on their face you have ever seen.

"It's been a while since I met a fan of mine. Take care, Al Haitham." You wave him a goodbye as you made your way out the plane.

Imagine the way he stood there for a couple of moments, taking his time to process it all. Things have been going slow for him since yesterday after all, and now this.

Imagine the way he run off the plane despite the warnings he got from the flight attendants. Looking for you as soon as he got out but you were out of his sight. So fast! He thought.

Imagine the on his way to the hotel he was supposed to stay, he opened the book in hand. Looking at the page where you signed, his heart skipped in delight of a fanboy. But then he almost dropped his book in hand as he saw a little note on the corner.

I had a good time.

See you when I see you, Al Haitham.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°

: I had the actual story chapters on draft on my other acc on my other sites used but it isn't fanfic. But then Al Haitham suddenly came into mind and I was like.. wtf? Isn't that a perfect story for Al Haitham?

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

@nightmareglitter

Warning: Very Anti Billy Hargrove. Lucas talks about his feelings on the subject like he deserves, too. Angst all around as the kids talk about their feelings.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Nancy paced in front of her boyfriends and Robin nervously. The piles of notebooks on the table seemed to be staring at her. They all stood in Steve's mostly clean apartment. There was still a lot of work that needed to be done, like getting a new AC unit and appliances for the kitchen as well as new furniture. In order to do all that, Steve needed a new job. He was managing to cover most of it with the compensation money, but most of it was going towards the furniture. Steve was going to have pay for the AC unit and things for the salon downstairs, which meant getting a job, something he was looking for with Robin.

"Whatcha thinking about, Nancy?" Eddie asked.

"Steve," Nancy replied.

"Aww. Me too. He is looking particularly handsome today," Eddie cooed at him. "Look at those pretty pink lips. I think somebody put on their lip gloss today. Our boyfriend is insanely hot. Stop it, Steven. Distracting Nancy like that. Can't you see she's trying to think?"

"I'm sorry. Next time, I'll put a bag over my head," Steve said sarcastically.

"Well, that's a bit dramatic, but now you're thinking ahead, baby," Eddie said.

"No," Nancy laughed. "I was trying to stop myself from overthinking this whole thing with the kids, so I started thinking about the things that need to get done around here."

"Did it help?" Robin asked.

"I don't think so. Do you think we're doing the right thing here? What if they hate us?" Nancy asked.

"I think what they're going to see is us trying our best to help them get through this," Steve said. "They're probably going to be little assholes about it at first, but they'll come to their senses."

"I hope you're right," Nancy said.

"You're doing the right thing, Nancy," Eddie said. "These kids need people to talk to."

Before they could say anything else, they heard the sounds of footsteps, and then there was a knock on the door. Nancy opened it, and one by one, the kids came in. The only one who was missing was Max.

"No Max?" Nancy asked Lucas.

"Uh, Billy's dad skipped down, so she's helping her mother pack up," Lucas said. "They're moving to Forest Hills."

"That is where we live," El said and smiled before frowning.

"Yeah, kiddo," Eddie said. "Don't feel bad about being excited about seeing your friend more. You're allowed to be happy."

"Okay," El said softly.

"It's going to be right across from you guys. Your uncle is helping them," Lucas said and paused. "Even if that wasn't the case, I'm not sure Max wants to see any of us right now."

"That's understandable," Nancy said.

"Why have thoust summoned a council meeting, milady?" Dustin asked.

"I can see why he's your favorite," Nancy heard Eddie whisper to Steve.

"I thought we should touch base and see how everyone is holding up. We went through a lot of shit recently, and I know it hasn't been easy for me. I just wanted to let everyone know that we're here for you if you need to talk about anything. This is a safe space," Nancy said.

"I'm fine," Mike shrugged.

"You're fine?!" Eddie asked, his eyebrows raised. "Nancy, I think your brother might be a psychopath. I am so sorry you had to find out like this."

"Okay, you don't have to talk about it, but there's no way you came out of it fine," Nancy said, rolling her eyes and ignoring her boyfriend.

"Okay, I don't want to talk about it," Mike said.

"That's okay. Like I said, no one has to talk. We're going to talk, and if someone wants to speak up afterward, then that's okay too," Nancy said.

"I'll go first," Steve said.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah," Steve said. "You know, most of the time, I can't sleep now. It was bad before, but never this bad. I lay awake, wondering if the Russians are going to break into my house and come for me or if they're going to come for Dustin and Robin. . . Just everyone I care about. And when I can't go back to sleep from the most God awful nightmare, I go out in my car and drive down everyone's street, just to make sure you guys are safe. And the nightmares. . . I dream that they come for me, and they take me away to a dark place where they take me apart piece by piece. Sometimes, it's the Russians. Sometimes, it's a demogorgon, and sometimes, it's my parents. When I wake up, I have to go out and make sure we're all still here."

"Holy shit, Steve," Eddie muttered and placed a comforting hand on his back, leaning heavily against him.

"I don't know how to make it all better except when I see all of you guys again, and I know you're safe," Steve said. "I know I complain a lot about doing things for you guys, but the truth is I love doing them. You're my family, and my biggest fear is that something will happen to you. I can't let that happen," Steve said.

Dustin suddenly threw himself into Steve’s arms, hugging him tightly.

"It's my fault you got hurt, Steve," Dustin said, sniffling. "I should have left the Russian transmission alone, and you wouldn't have gone down there."

"That's dumb, I made my own choice to go down there, and if we hadn't gone down there, then the others wouldn't have known where to go to shut off the machines," Steve said.

"Hopper died," Dustin sobbed.

"He made his own choice, too," Steve said softly. "He chose to save Hawkins. We wouldn't have made it out of a lot of situations without you."

"Yeah, but we wouldn't have gotten into certain situations if it hadn't been for me like when I tried to keep Dart. What if he had killed my mom and not my cat?" Dustin asked.

"But he didn't," Steve said.

"Sometimes, I have nightmares about him eating mom, my friends, and you. Now, I also dream about the Russians hurting my older brother," Dustin said. "I don't know what I would do if you died because me."

"You are not responsible for what happened. The Russians are and the mad scientist who started all of this," Steve said softly and clutched him tightly to his chest.

"I know it doesn't look like it, but I question myself all the time, and I wonder if I'm making the right decisions," Dustin said.

"We all do that, Dustin," Nancy said softly. "You're not alone in that."

"Even you?" Dustin sniffled.

"Especially me," Nancy said. "I've made decisions that could have the cost the lives of this entire town. I know what it's like to feel responsible for the decisions you've made. The minute you realized that you messed up with Dart, you tried to fix it. I mean, you did it by yourself, and he ended up escaping, but you did try. You ended up reaching out for help, and in doing so, you got a big brother out of it. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is take responsibility and do better rather than stewing in the regret of the decisions you've made. It took me a while to even realize that I messed up. Even longer than you. I still feel like I have so much to make up for. You're not alone in feeling like that, and you're not alone in feeling like everything is your fault either. Just because you were responsible for one thing doesn't mean that you're responsible for another."

Dustin moved from Steve’s arms to Nancy's and hugged her tightly. Nancy sighed and removed his hat to kiss the top of his curls. She put his hat back on his head and pinched his cheeks. Dustin scowled and sat back down. He cracked a smile as he adjusted his hat.

"I feel small," Robin blurted out. "Like, I saw everything, and I just felt so much smaller now that I know what's out there. I just feel like everything in my life doesn't matter, or at least that's what I think, but then it's like maybe it matters even more now, to live your life the way you want to without anyone's expectations bringing you down. Just when I think that I'm going to do that, the feeling of being small comes back, and I think about all those people stuffed inside that fucking monster. It honestly scares me that your life can just be snuffed out like that. If that makes sense."

"It does. On one hand, you want to be true to yourself, but on the other hand, you're afraid that your truth might scare the people you care about most away," Will said. "Even if you know that they wouldn't care, there's still this irrational fear that they might be carrying that secret like the secret you carry."

"Exactly," Robin agreed.

"And at the end of the day, you have to risk trusting them because you want the people in your life to know you," Mike said. "Because you never know, they might understand more than you think."

"And you just have to decide if they're worth the risk," Robin said, smiling at Steve. "It's all about perspective."

For several moments, no one said anything until Lucas started sniffling and shaking his leg.

"What's up, Lucas?" Steve asked.

"I just - no, it's too awful," Lucas sniffed.

"Hey, safe space here," Nancy said. "We're not going to judge you."

"It's just that I'm glad that Max isn't here, that she broke up with me because I'm not sure if I'd be able to look at her if she knew what I was thinking," Lucas said. "There's a part of me that's glad. . . That's glad that Billy is dead because at least he can't hurt anyone anymore. The monsters, they're scary as shit but Billy scared me more than anything else because he wasn't a monster from another dimension. He was just a person who targeted me because of the color of my skin. He held me against the wall, and he threatened to break me. I still have nightmares about him holding me there, and what if Steve hadn't intervened in time? What if he held me to the ground and beat me until I couldn't wake up? Then I dreamed about him going after my dad, my mom, and my sister. He makes me watch and tells me he's going to break us, that we don't belong. . . then I'm back at the Byers again, and he's holding me in the air, threatening to break me as Steve lies dead on the floor. Billy scared me more than anyone or anything because before he got possessed, he was a real monster, and there's more people like him out there who wanted to see people like me dead. It scares the shit out of me. I feel like I should feel bad, though, that he's dead, but I don't. I only feel bad for Max."

"Lucas. . . You're not a bad person for feeling the way that you do. Billy Hargrove was a terror, and you're right. He was a monster. You had every right to be scared of him, and you have a right to be relieved that he's not around to hurt you anymore," Nancy said softly.

"He scared the crap out of me, too. Remember when he tried to run us over and he almost killed Steve? I am super glad he's not around to hurt my friends anymore. Do I feel bad for Max? Yes. Do I feel bad that Billy's gone? No. In my book, that's another bad guy who's not around to hurt our family anymore," Dustin said.

"I felt sad that his father was so mean, and that his mother left him alone, but that does not mean he should act like Papa. I am sad for Max, but I will be glad that he will not be around to hurt Max or any of my friends," El said. "He will not be missed, which is sad, but he made his own choices, and he chose to be bad."

"I'm glad he's gone even more now that I've heard what he's done to you kids. He was a psychopath. You could see it in the eyes. He definitely had it in for my friend, Jeff, which is further proof that he's a racist shithead," Eddie said. "Fucking sexist too."

"See? You're not alone in feeling that way, Lucas. It doesn't mean you're a bad person," Nancy said.

"Then why do I feel bad about not feeling bad?" Lucas asked.

"Because you're a better person than he was," Steve said.

"He saved us, saved El," Lucas said.

"A bad person can do one nice thing his entire life, but it will never make up for all the shitty vile things he's done. . .that takes constant work," Nancy said. "It took El digging in his head to pull out the one shred of decency that he had buried deep inside."

"You can either end the cycle of abuse your parents' beat into you, or you can pass it on. Billy chose to pass it on, man," Steve said. "He had every opportunity to give Max the older brother she deserved, but he waited at the very last minute to do the bare minimum. You're not a bad person, Lucas. Billy was, though."

Steve got up to hug the crying Sinclair, but Erica had beat him to it. She threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

"You're my brother, and you can be such a dumbass but I love you. I'm glad he's not around to hurt you anymore either," Erica said softly.

Lucas sniffled and hugged his sister back just as tightly. Everyone fell quiet as they watched the siblings hug. They sat back down, and the silence continued as they let Lucas mull over what's been said. Nancy pulled out a box of tissues and laid them on the table. Lucas gladly helped himself to some.

"I don't want to move to California," Will blurted out.

"Have you told your mom about that?" Nancy asked.

"No. I know how much she wants to leave, and I get it. She was put through hell here. We all were, but this is our home, too. All of you are here, and what if something happens again? I also don't want to be the one to make my mother miserable here," Will said. "I just wish I had a choice like El did. I want to stay here too."

"I think maybe you should tell your mom that. I think she'd understand about you wanting to stay," Nancy said. "I think she'd be happy with whatever choice you wanted to make."

"I mean, it's not like we'd never see each other again if we did move to California," Will said.

"I don't want you to move either," Mike blurted out. "You're my best friend. You're our best friend. Why does it have to be all the way in California? I mean, can't it be somewhere closer? First, we lost Hopper. Now we're going to have to lose you? You have to lose us? It's not fucking fair?! It's not right! And what about us? What if something happens again? We're just on our own again?! It's not fair!"

Will stood up and pulled Mike into his arms, squeezing him. Mike sobbed and hugged him.

"I'll talk to my mom, okay. I'll talk to her," Will said softly.

Lucas stood up and joined the hug. Dustin soon followed, and then it was El who joined the hug after them. Dustin cleared his throat and looked over at the others. Nancy moved with everyone else, and soon, they were all holding onto each other. They all stayed like that for a while until Dustin let out a gaseous cloud that dispersed them immediately.

"Oh my God! Steven! What are you feeding that child?!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I'm sorry! So many things were released today! What's one more toxic thing?!" Dustin exclaimed as everyone gagged.

El started giggling, which set off a chain reaction that caused everyone to laugh. They laughed harder when Robin dramatically threw open the windows. They didn't stop laughing until they all collapsed on the ground.

"I have to ask though, what's with all the journals?" Lucas asked as they all stood up.

"I got those for all of us to write our thoughts, feelings, and dreams down in," Nancy said.

"I do feel a little better now that I got some stuff off my chest," Lucas said.

"And I got stickers for you to decorate your journals with," Eddie said.

"Why are there so many My Little Pony stickers?" Mike asked.

"The question is: why isn't there more?" Erica asked.

"That's all they had in the store," Eddie said. "I LOVE My Little Pony."

Nancy and Steve shared an amused look as Eddie got into a heated debate over My Little Pony with Erica and Dustin. It had been a good idea to do this because it was another step forward to moving on and receiving the proper healing that they all needed. Nancy only hoped that they could keep this up. She knew that there were still hardships ahead, but as she gazed at them all, she could feel hope on the rise.

Chapter Fifteen

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 22!!

And we're back to Team Ineffable!

Since the winning vote from the Fanfiction question was to include smut, Younglings beware. I don't mention anything specific, other than a vague line about some trolls. I will link the fic for those who want it. That's as bad as it gets. You're still good to read this on the bus if you're the kind of person who worries about the old ladies sitting behind you (pro tip, if they're reading smut off your phone over your shoulder, they're enjoying it).

Next installment we're meeting Jeremy!!

Okay, let's do this.

Beginning || Previous || Next

******************************************

The five of you have been on the road for a few hours now, and honestly it’s been very uneventful (disappointing, I know). In the last five hours, the peak of Interesting Happenings was Aziraphale wondering if the Shuffle was working properly on the playlist, because he was certain they hadn’t put nearly so much Taylor Swift on it. But the song quickly switched to Moonlight Sonata, so Aziraphale stopped complaining. That’s it. You sort of vaguely notice that that music has drifted back to Taylor Swift, but it’s all basically white noise at this point.

It is for this reason that you pull out your Miracle Enabler, and decide that you may as well get started since you have the time. With a quick glance around the car, you pull off a number and make a wish.

No one questions the book for another hour. It’s about the size of a graphic novel, slightly bigger than you would have liked, but aside from that it’s exactly what you wanted. The cover is a nondescript light brown moleskin (because moleskin feels SO nice), the only clue of its contents on the front, written in red script: AO3 Favourites: Good Omens Edition. Making the book was step one, and step two is reading the entire thing (vital, you see, got to make sure it’s nice, complete, and accurate). So far, it’s perfect. A tip-top piece of Miracle Making, if you do say so yourself.

“Oh!” Aziraphale says from the front seat, “I didn’t realize you brought a book!” Of course he’s the first one to notice. You wonder if you’re blushing at all because you’re pretty sure you know the next question he’s going to ask. “What is it that you’re reading?”

Yup. Nailed it.

For a moment you hesitate. Should you? Well, there was nothing to be ashamed of really. He’d probably read Lady Chatterly’s Lover and had it signed by the author.

“Oh come now,” the angel presses, “There’s no reason to worry, you’ve seen my bookshop after all.” There’s a twinkle in his eye that makes the decision for you. Well. He asked. Whatever happens next, it’s his fault.

“Well,” You say, “I was starting to miss some of my favourite stories from back home, so I made them into a book.” You hold up the volume, showing the cover.

“How lovely!” Aziraphale says, “What kind of stories do you have in there?”

“Smutty fanfiction.”

Crowley and Sardis both start laughing (Crowley’s going to regret that in a minute, you think), Anathema has put down her phone and is smiling as she tries to contain laughter herself. Aziraphale isn’t laughing.

“I...beg your pardon?” He asks in his I’d-be-clutching-pearls-if-I-had-them voice.

“Well,” You say, “Good Omens is my favourite thing--”

“-- The story about me and Crowley,” Aziraphale interrupts.

“Yeah,” You say, “That one. It’s my favourite thing, and a lot of other people’s too, so a lot of them write fanfiction about it. Like...stories about you and Crowley in...alternative situations and realities.”

Neither Aziraphale or Crowley have figured out where you’re going with this yet, but Anathema has, and she can’t seem to contain herself any longer.

“Oh my god,” she looks at you across Sardis, glee and amusement lighting up her face, “You made a book of your favourite Aziraphale-Crowley porn!?”

You notice that Crowley has stopped laughing. He and Aziraphale are staring straight ahead now, and the tips of their ears are going red.

“Pretty much, yeah,” You say in answer to Anathema. She cackles in response.

“Wow,” she manages between fits of laughter, “I wonder what that looks like!”

Okay, well with that kind of encouragement how can you not elaborate?

“Oh,” You say, “I can tell you exactly what that looks like. In every version you can think of. I have them as is, I have them as fairies, trolls, merfolk, aliens, mixed species, humans, some experimentation of celestial forms, and reversed. I have them as men, women, mixed, fluid, doppelgangers, current time, through history, future, on beds and ceilings and in public bathrooms. Every kink and position you can imagine. In canon, canon divergent and – ”

“FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE,” Thunders Aziraphale from the front seat, “WOULD YOU STOP PLEASE.”

You go quiet. Which bothers you because you hadn’t quite finished. You bounce your knee for a second before adding quietly:

“And crossovers.” There. Now you’re done. Aziraphale groans in frustration from the front seat. For a moment you sit there, book closed, hands in your lap. At some point during the conversation the music had stopped altogether, and now the car is just full of a horrible smothering silence. You’re starting to regret bringing this up, until you notice Anathema’s hand, reaching across Sardis, making gimme motions. With a glance up at the front seat, you hand the book across to Anathema, who immediately opens it and starts flipping through it, Sardis leaning over her shoulder.

“Oi!” Crowley calls. He’s staring at you through the rearview mirror. Huh, you didn’t think he actually used the rearview mirror. You learn something new every day apparently.

“Look,” You say, “It’s important.”

Aziraphale scoffs.

“No really,” You pull out the Miracle Enabler and wave it around, “I’ve been thinking about this thing. And I’m thinking hey, there might be a very real chance that we end up in a boss fight kind of situation. And I was thinking that I should probably know exactly what I can do with this thing before I’m standing on a battle field.” You take out a folded piece of paper, and hand it to Aziraphale. He takes it and unfolds the list written on motel stationary.

“Hm,” He says, putting his glasses on his nose.

Movement in your peripheral vision distracts you. Anathema is waving at you. She’s found that some of the stories are illustrated, and she’s landed on “Boon of the Blue Moon,” specifically the illustration that shows Troll!Aziraphale and Troll!Crowley in a very interesting position that’s only achievable for trolls with long tails, or acrobats who occasionally work from home. Her eyes and mouth are wide as she mouths “OH MY GOD.” Sardis mirrors mock-horror.

It takes all of your self control to hold in your laughter and try to wave them away. If Aziraphale sees this right now, he might actually smite you. And Crowley would probably help him. (And yeah, okay, you still have four lives left, but let’s not use up one of them on friendly fire if we can help it.)

“Make something that doesn’t exist,” Aziraphale reads aloud, “Make a common object, what’s this Matrix- Kung Fu mean?”

“It’s like...shorthand for giving myself a talent or skill that I never actually learned.”

“Ah,” He replies, folding the list again and handing it back, “I just don’t understand why you needed to start with...erm...”

“Smut,” You finish. The blush is creeping across his face, and you figure that saving him from saying the word out loud is the decent thing to do. Aziraphale nods as he removes his glasses and places them back in his pocket.

“Um yes, that.”

“Well some of them are really beautiful. I mean the sheer talent of these people. There are some stories in there that are so lovely they actually made me cry. And let me tell you, there are an awful lot of critically-acclaimed ‘proper’ works that haven’t evoked emotion for me the way that these have. It’s not just about the sex.” You decide to leave the Plot-What-Plot stories out of this for now. When you’re making progress in an argument, it’s important to quit when you’re ahead.

Aziraphale considers this for a moment, before the car’s audio turns back on, blaring Taylor Swift’s Love Story.

Under the cover of music, you lean over and say quietly to Anathema (and Sardis) “Wait till I show you the comics.”

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

[primavera-weirdeggii]

Here we go again! @skizzlemanweek

Prompt 4: Friend/Enemy

Skizz burst open the door to his shared cabin, startling all his cabin mates into jumping out of their skin.

“Dude! Why are you running in here all crazy?” Impulse yelled. Grian glared over the screen of his laptop at Skizz while Scar picked himself up from the ground where he’d fallen off his bed.

“I just found the coolest thing ever! You guys are gonna love it, you gotta come see!” Skizz cheered. He picked up each of their jackets and threw them at each of his friends. “C’mon, get up! Let’s go!”

“Oh, you found something cool, Skizz? Whadja find?” Scar asked, taking his jacket and zipping it up.

“You gotta see for yourself, now cmon!” Skizz urged, gesturing frantically for Grian and Impulse to get up.

Impulse rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, like standing up was a burden on him, but did get up and put his jacket on.

Grian still hadn’t moved, having gone back to watching whatever video was playing on his laptop.

“C’mon, G! Get up already.”

Grian waved him off. “I’ll catch up, go on without me.”

“You always say that, man.” Skizz groaned.

“Yeah, Grian, we always go when you find something cool, or learn a new trick. You should do the same for Skizzy.” Scar commented.

“Ugh, fine.” Grian whined, closing his laptop. “This better be worth it.”

Scar shot him a grin, and Skizz made a silent promise to do something nice for him later. “It will be worth it, you can trust me on that, G-Sharp.”

As they were walking across the campground, Impulse perked up with a sudden question. “Wait, this isn’t gonna get us in trouble, is it?”

Skizz gave a cheeky grin. “Probably not. But who knows!”

Skizz knew that the storage area the ghost was in would likely go unused for the rest of the trip, but what fun is that?

It’s more fun to let them think they could get caught. It adds an extra sense of fear!

When they finally got to the storage area, the door was shut. Skizz firmly remembered leaving it open, and a giddy smile came over his face.

“It’s in here,” he said, and pushed open the door.

Everything was just as he left it; spirit box on the floor, EMF reader on the table, and all other supplies where they belonged.

Scar walked in ahead of him. “Oh, you found a storage area! This is cool!” He said, looking at all the various summer items strewn about. He wandered over to a shelf stacked with tennis balls, picking one up and attempting to juggle it.

“Uh huh, yeah. Great… storage.” Impulse muttered, flicking disdainfully at the table.

“You shut up! There’s more to it than that.” Skizz yelled.

“Can we maybe not yell in the place we’re not supposed to be?” Grian asked sarcastically. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “What’d you wanna show us, Skizz?”

With his attention brought back to the reason they’re here, Skizz noticed that the storage area was empty of activity. “Just wait,” he said, holding a finger up. “It’ll happen soon.”

A cricket chirped a tune. Scar fumbled the tennis ball and it rolled past his feet. A bird flew overhead, landing on the wall and calling down at them. It flew away again, leaving behind still air.

“So… is something going to happen?” Impulse asked.

“Well it did it before!” Skizz said incredulously. “Do something, already!” Skizz shouted to the open air.

“Oh my gosh!” Scar yelped, jumping back from the shelf. “Th-the the balls! The b-b-balls moved on their own!” He pointed to the ground where a few tennis balls were scattered.

“Scar, you dropped those trying to juggle.” Grian stated, unmoving.

“N-n-no, I didn’t! I swear! I swear I only touched one!”

Skizz picked up the EMF reader and darted over to Scar. When he pointed it at the offending objects, the clicking started again, and the gage went all the way up to five.

“I knew it! This place is haunted, homies!” He tapped the back of his hand against the reader.

Impulse came by and looked over his shoulder, brows raising when he saw what Skizz had.

“Whoa,” Impulse breathed. “Where’d you find an EMF reader, bro?”

“What’s an EMF reader?” Scar asked.

“On the table over there,” Skizz gestured to the entrance, where Grian was still standing in the doorway. Impulse went over to investigate. “They’ve got all kinds of stuff, and I think it’s used for detecting ghosts!”

“That’s stupid,” Grian blurted, tightening his grip on his sleeves.

Skizz blinked. “It’s not! Scar believes it”

Grian glanced at Scar, at the very real fear in his eyes and the barely-there tremble in his body. He looked back at Skizz and continued trying to disprove this. “No, ghosts aren’t real. They’re not. You’re just messing with me.”

Skizz sighed. “Alright. You don’t believe me. Before you write this whole thing off as a waste of time, can you do one thing for me?”

Grian seemed hesitant, but eventually agreed. “Fine. One thing.”

Skizz shoved the spirit box into his hands with an evil grin. “Talk to it.”

Grian gulped. “What?”

“Talk to the ghost.”

Grian shook his head. “I don’t- what do I even say?”

“Ask where it is! Or if it’s friendly, or angry, or wants us to leave.” Skizz put his hands on Grian’s shoulders, pushing him into the storage area. “I wanna test how this thing works!”

“Then why can’t you do it yourself?” Grian resisted, trying to plant his feet to stop Skizz from moving him. Alas, Skizz was too strong, and Grian ended up in the middle of the room anyway.

“Because this is more fun!” Skizz left Grian alone, grabbing Scar by the hand and pulling him from the room.

Impulse put down the thermometer he was looking at and followed. “Yeah, you got this Grian! Be brave!” Impulse called as he left.

Scar hesitated outside the door. “Are you sure we should leave him alone in there?”

Skizz pulled him the rest of the way out the door. “He‘ll be fine! He’s Grian!” Then he slammed the door shut.

Grian inhaled shakily, then turned his attention to the spirit box. A button on the side was labeled “power”, so he clicked it. He twitched when a static sound came from the machine.

“This is stupid!” He called out to his mean friends who abandoned him.

“Do it anyway!” Skizz called back.

“Do it anyway,” he mocked, turning to look at the spirit box again. It’s still making that horrid sound, and Grian knows Skizz won’t leave him alone until this gets done. With any luck, nothing will even happen. It’ll be fine.

Cautiously, Grian began to speak. “…are you there?”

The spirit box did not respond, simply continuing to emit bone-chilling static.

“Are you friendly?” He tried again. “Are you a ghost?”

Nothing.

This isn’t working. He smacked the box a couple times, and the noise droned on. “Hello??”

“I’m here.”

Grian screamed, dropping the spirit box and running as fast as he could out of the room.

Skizz and the others broke out in laughter as Grian bolted from the room, slamming the door open and panting like he’d just run a marathon.

“I hate this place, I’m never coming back here again. Skizz this is all your fault and I’m never trusting you ever again for the rest of both of our lives.”

Impulse wiped a tear from his eye as Skizz leaned his weight on his shoulder to keep from falling down.

Grian shoved the door open, whacking Skizz on the shoulder in his haste to escape the ghost.

“Ow-uh!” Skizz whined through his laughter.

“That’s what you get!” Grian spit out angrily, though he was smiling through the remark. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, buddy!”

A lesson? This whole experience only taught Skizz one thing:

He’s definitely taking these guys ghost hunting again. For real, this time.

[subby-succubus]

Imagine you're sitting in my lap and I'm giving you pills from an unlabeled bottle. Little capsules, all different colors, almost like candy. You keep taking them like a good little whore, sucking my fingers each time. You have no idea what they are, and you don't care. You'd do anything you were told to do AND you'd probably take a pill you found on the ground. There was no way this could ever be your limit.

Your head is spinning a little already. The lights are brighter than they should be. You can mostly think clearly. Well, you THINK you're thinking clearly. Oh, it's time for the next pill! How many is that? Has to be more than five, couldn't be more than, um... Twenty? You think maybe they're starting to really kick in now. Every sense is pulsing, growing and receding in intensity. You try to say something, but it slips out of your mouth and turns into a few happy syllables. "I know, Angel. Here, one more."

I ask what you want to do. You giggle and turn and slip to the floor. You reach for my belt and fumble at the buckle. I smile at you as I undo it and strip off my pants. "Of course we can."

Your mouth isn't so much opened for me as it is hanging limp, but it's warm and wet all the same. I take hold of your hair and push inside your throat. I'm having to do all the work, but you seem happy enough. You're not blacking out just yet, but it can't be far away. You moan and fumble at your own tits and pretend to help me fuck you, but you're getting limper with every passing second.

I figure I'm ready to move on. You figure you're ready to go to sleep. We can both have what we want, really. I strip off what little you're wearing, and the last thing you feel as you drift away is the head of my cock starting to enter your...

Imagine you're waking up, right where you went to sleep. How long has it been? You're still naked. I'm still there. I have one hand on your cheek and the other jerking my cock, slowly. When I see your eyes flutter open, I speed up. You try to say something. Try.

I take my hand off my cock to grab the pill bottle. I shake three of them into your hand. "Go ahead."

You take them, of course. Then I throw back the rest of the bottle into my mouth and swallow them all.

You're shocked. I'm laughing. My hand is back on my cock, making myself cum on your face. "It was a joke, silly slut. They're all placebos!" I smear my load across your face, let you down gently to a lying position. I wipe my cock on your clothes, throw them on top of you, and walk away.

Now imagine that before starting our little game tonight, I took the placebo bottle and put two dozen real pills on top of it. You swallowed them all. What were they? You don't know. I've already forgotten. Who gives a shit anyway. What matters is I drugged you into unconsciousness, did God knows what with your body, and then convinced you that you were sober the whole time. Isn't that hilarious?

- Sinister

Wow. Wow wow wow. Yes please.

I'd just keep taking anything you gave me. I'd want to be a good girl for you after all. Each pill making me more and more needy. Each time I think less and less about the consequences by replacing those thoughts with how badly I want to be obedient. I mean, I can't say no. How could I? I want so badly to please you. Wanting to pleasure you with my mouth. Wanting more, but feeling too sleepy. I fall asleep for you to do whatever you want to my little, weak body.

I wake up feeling hot and used. Not sure what happened to me. Not sure what is currently happening. Not fully understanding how I could be like that with placebos. But if you say so, it must be true. After all, you wouldn't lie to me. It's my fault for being such a dumb slut. It's my fault for being so easy.

It would just make our game so much harder for me to win. Just like it should be.